


Hit the Ground Running

by stellarmeadow



Series: Faith [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Case Fic, First Time, M/M, On the Run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-15
Updated: 2011-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:05:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/223984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny gets Steve out of jail. It goes downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anything For You

**Author's Note:**

> This has been churning in my head since the last second of the season finale aired. Had to finish another story, then battle my way through this one. So many thank yous--this would not have gotten done without the encouragement of Celli (who is an awesome cheerleader), Chelsea Frew (who also cheers well and betas fabulously), Cori Lannam (who listens to my constant bitching and plotting and cheers as well), imaginarycircus (another lovely cheerleader who also betas like a pro) and Zarah5 (who cheers and encourages and picks nits more awesomely than anyone on the planet, and has the best music collection ever, with a song for every emotion).

It took Danny three days to get Steve out.

Of course, it wasn't the 'out' he had originally meant when Steve was arrested. But he'd spent thirty-six mostly sleepless hours working every contact who'd even heard the name of a contact he might know, trying to get evidence to clear Steve, when he heard the rumors. Something incredibly bad was going to happen to one Steve McGarrett in jail, and no amount of solitary confinement could save him.

So Danny switched gears and spent another thirty-six mostly sleepless hours using every ounce of favors owed --and promising some of his own--to arrange for certain doors to be unlocked at just the right time, a bag to be left by the last door, and a note to be passed to Steve with instructions that he'd better follow to the letter, or Danny would shank him himself--and yes, the instructions included that exact warning.

He was waiting in the dark, on a road a mile from the prison, behind the wheel of an old, gray Chevy Lumina Kamekona had scrounged up from Danny didn't even want to know where. It was clean, had no trace to Danny, and it was the kind of car no one would notice. That was all that mattered.

His phone was at Steve's house, which he'd been using as a base, providing GPS proof that he'd been there all night. An app installed by Toast was making automated calls to contacts, calls that would make it appear as if there was no way he could've been anywhere near this crime. He held an untraceable cell from the half a dozen also provided by Toast and proclaimed 'cleaner than the Hawaiian air'--whatever that meant--in his hand. He kept hitting the button on the phone just to see the backlit time on the screen. He knew how fast Steve could travel per mile on foot, and if everything had gone as planned, he should be there any--

There was a sound in the brush, and Danny tensed, his muscles relaxing only a little as he recognized the shape as Steve. Clad all in black, the clothes Danny had ensured would be waiting by the last door, and looking a lot like he had the last time Danny had seen him. Three days ago. As Chin had been shoving him into the back of an HPD cruiser.

He'd wondered even then if Steve would be the unfortunate victim of another hit on a prison transport, if Danny's next sight of him would be in the back of that cruiser with a bullet in his head. But no, Wo Fat had actually let him go to prison, and even if he'd never intended for Steve to survive that, there he was, almost to the car and alive, despite any plans others had to the contrary.

They weren't out of the woods yet, though. Steve climbed into the car, the door opening and closing with as little noise as possible, for a clunker, and Danny started the engine, turned on the headlights, and drove carefully away.

He glanced at Steve several times, saw Steve shooting him the same quick looks out of the corner of his eye, but neither of them said a word until they were safely inside the house that another contact, known only as 'Mutt,' as far as Danny could tell, had managed to help him borrow for a while.

"Thanks to the previous inhabitants and their drug-making activities, each of the doors on this house has triple bolts," Danny said quietly, as he closed the back door behind him and turned on the overhead kitchen light, "which you _will_ use, and the windows are reinforced, but you _will_ be staying away from them anyway, got it? There are probably worse people looking for you than HPD by now."

The fluorescent tubes in the overhead light flickered as Steve surveyed the kitchen, eyes lost, like he wasn't quite sure what he was doing there. "Yeah, use the deadbolts, no windows. Got it."

"Good." Danny watched for a few seconds, but Steve didn't move. He just stood there, gaze frozen on the kitchen table. "You okay?"

His laugh was bitter, the sound making Danny's gut hurt. "I'm great," Steve said. "Fantastic."

"Sarcasm is not attractive, Steven," Danny said in what he hoped passed for normal. He'd try anything if he thought it might get that weird uncertainty off Steve's face.

"Sorry." And no, that flat tone and shuttered look was not what Danny had been trying to coax out of him. "I'm hungry," Steve said, meeting Danny's gaze at last. "Your note said not to eat anything."

"Yeah, about that...." Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, sit down, okay? I'll make a couple of sandwiches and explain."

Steve nodded, sitting silently at the ugly wood laminate table between the kitchen and the living room, but Danny could feel Steve's eyes on him the entire time he was fixing the sandwiches. He grabbed a couple of Longboards out of the fridge, making a note to make sure Mutt got out of whatever trouble he could find for the next six months just for the food and drinks he'd stocked alone.

"There's enough food for a week, at least," Danny said, putting one sandwich and beer in front of Steve and another at the place beside him before taking a seat. "I'll be back to check on you before that, and I can bring more, but just in case, there's plenty of food."

"Thanks." Steve didn't, though. He just stared at the sandwich like he didn't know what to do with it.

"Eat, McGarrett, for crying out loud. Don't make me feed you like I did Grace when she was a baby, because I make terrible airplane noises. They sound more like a motorcycle going through a wood chipper."

That got a hint of a smile, and Steve picked up the sandwich and took a bite. He took three more before looking at Danny expectantly, then swallowing. "So why was I starving myself?" Steve asked around another bite. "And why--not that I am not extremely grateful--am I here instead of in jail?"

"Well...I was working on getting you out, until I started hearing things." Danny picked at the label on his bottle. "It would seem that you are extremely unpopular with a large portion of the inmates at--well, at any prison facility in Hawaii."

"You're telling me?" Steve put down the sandwich and pulled up his shirt. Several bruises colored his ribs.

Danny hissed at the sight. "I thought you were in solitary."

"I was. Twenty-three hours of the day."

"Ah. And that happened the other hour?"

"More or less, yeah." Steve took a long drink. "So, you were hearing things?"

Nodding, Danny sipped at his beer. "Apparently you were public enemy number one inside. And there were plans. I never got the full story, but I knew there was something going on in the kitchen--either they were going to poison you to death, or drug you and sneak in and beat you to death, but either way, you were a dead man."

"Oh." Steve started on the second half of his sandwich.

"Oh?" Danny frowned at him. "Oh? That's all you have to say?"

"I got the feeling something was up. They seemed pretty cocky when they attacked me today. Said something about me going down or whatever--it's all kind of hazy. I hadn't slept or eaten for over a day by then."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "I thought you SEALs were trained to live with no food, water or sleep for like a month."

"Live, yes," Steve said, ignoring the 'month' part of the comment. "But it gets harder to remember everything that happens. Especially if you're using all your energy to be alert in the moment."

"I see," Danny said. Given his own tiredness, it made sense. "Anyway, once I heard that, I focused on getting you out so that you would still be alive to be vindicated once we get the evidence to clear your name."

"I appreciate that," Steve said quietly. "I know this is dangerous for you."

Danny shrugged. "What good would it do me to clear your name only to be telling that to your corpse?" Danny said lightly. "I've kind of gotten used to having you around."

"Glad to hear it." Steve ate the last bite of his sandwich and finished off his beer. "How's Grace?"

The question was unexpected--though in retrospect it shouldn't have been--and Danny was caught without an answer. "Uh, she's...she was fine when I talked to her yesterday."

"Danny." He recognized that tone. That was not a happy tone.

"Yes, Steven?"

"What's wrong with Grace?"

Putting his sandwich down with a sigh, Danny leaned back in his chair. "Rachel took her to New Jersey."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Why?"

"It's a long, long story."

He hazarded a glance at Steve, who had his arms folded over his chest and was eyeing Danny like he just about had him confessing to murder. "I have a lot of free time."

"You might," Danny said, picking his sandwich up again, "but I don't. Someone's got to clear your name."

"I can help with that," Steve said. "After you tell me why Rachel and Grace are in New Jersey."

"Okay, fine. I was worried, okay?" Danny said between bites of sandwich, finding himself unable to tell the truth. Not right now. "I didn't know who else might get used in this whole plot, and I wanted them out of the way, so they're staying with my parents for now."

They knew each other far too well, and he could tell Steve knew he was lying, knew Danny was just waiting for Steve to call him on it. "Okay," Steve said after a long moment.

Danny blinked. That was easier than he'd expected. "Okay?"

"For now."

Fuck. "As for your help in clearing your name, there's a laptop in that bag," Danny said, waving a hand at a large black duffle bag in the corner of the kitchen, "that should have internet access--I don't even know how to explain it, but Toast promises it will get you on the internet and not give you away. It also has everything I've been able to collect so far on what happened."

"You've been busy," Steve said, sounding impressed.

"I was motivated."

That hint of a smile was back. "Thanks, Danno," he said quietly. "I...." He closed his eyes for a minute, then opened them, his gaze more focused than Danny had seen it since he'd picked him up. "I was going crazy in there, and I had no idea what was going on, and...they might've actually been able to take me out."

"Wow, you're admitting that poison and/or drugs combined with a pissed off mob of hardened criminals might have been enough to take you out?" Danny teased as he ate the last of his sandwich. "That's a pretty big step for you."

Steve laughed softly. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying, I hear admitting your weakness is the first step to recovery."

"Oh, well, if we're going to get into my weaknesses, that's a whole other conversation." Steve yawned.

"One we shouldn't have right now," Danny said quickly. Something in the look Steve was giving him told him that wasn't a conversation he needed right then, even if part of him wanted badly to stay. He made himself finish off his beer and stood up. "I'm exhausted, you're exhausted, and I need to get back before I fall asleep at the wheel."

Steve frowned. "I suppose staying here and taking a nap is out of the question?"

"Sorry," Danny said, shaking his head with regret. He wouldn't have minded more time--he hadn't even spoken to Steve in three days and it had been a bit like having a limb severed, for lack of a better way to put it. "My cell phone is at your place making it look like I'm there, but that's not going to hold up forever."

"My place?"

"Yeah, I, uh..." Danny felt himself go pink. "I've been using it for the last few days. More room, less people observing my actions...."

Steve's smile made it clear Danny wasn't in trouble. "It's fine. Stay as long as you want."

"Thanks." He pushed his chair under the table. "It also helped me get your reserve cash, so you can thank your own paranoia for financing your escape."

"Just because you're paranoid..."

"I know, I know. Don't remind me how many people are still out to get you. Including HPD."

Steve's smile disappeared. "Including Chin."

"Uh, well, no, actually. He's kind of helping...as much as he can anyway. That's why he went back."

"Right, I could see how he was helping as he handcuffed me and stuffed me in the back of a cruiser."

Danny leaned on the back of the chair. "He had to. He contacted me the next morning--he's working an angle from the inside. His loyalty is to you, he made that clear."

Some of the strain around Steve's mouth went away, and Danny felt himself relaxing. "That's good to hear. I didn't think he would...but..." He shook his head. "How's Kono?"

"Suspended pending an investigation into the money. But hanging in there. She's been helping a little, but she's under surveillance, so she's being careful."

"I can't believe--" Steve shook his head again. "I can't even...not right now. I need sleep."

"I know. Me, too." Danny pushed off the chair and turned around to haul the black duffle off the floor and drop it on the kitchen table. "In addition to the laptop, there's some money in here--just in case--a couple of burner phones, guns and ammo, some clothes, and a few other things I thought you might need."

Steve's smile returned as he stood. "Thanks. I owe you."

"No. You don't."

Danny held Steve's gaze until Steve finally nodded. "Okay."

"Kono and Chin have untraceable burners as well--all the numbers are programmed into both of yours by first initial. If you call, they'll know it's you, but use it only if you have to. If someone's around when you call, they won't answer, but you might give away that they have a separate phone, and we can't afford that kind of suspicion right now."

"I understand," Steve said, that slightly lost look creeping in again.

"My burner is in there as well," Danny added quickly, holding up his new phone, "and I'm not under quite as much scrutiny, so...text or call me if you need anything, all right? Anything. If I can't answer, I'll see the missed call and know it's you and call you back." Danny held out the keys to the car he'd driven. "Here. If something does go wrong...."

Steve nodded, taking the keys. "Thanks."

He didn't think he'd ever gotten this many thank yous from Steve McGarrett in his life, let alone one night. "You're still welcome."

"You'd better get going," Steve said, and Danny could see Steve wasn't thrilled about being left alone, but he was also clearly determined this time.

"Yeah. Get some sleep. I'll talk to you soon."

Steve nodded, and looked as though he might take a step toward Danny, but then thought better of it and stayed where he was. "Night, Danno."

"Good night," Danny said, turning on his heel and walking out.

He waited until he heard the bolts turn before leaving the porch. As a safe house, the place had its drawbacks, but it had a driveway that allowed parking behind the house, which had been one of the attractions, as had the high fences surrounding it. Neighbors could still see into the house from their second floor windows, but it was still better than nothing.

A second unremarkable car, an early 90s beige Corolla, was parked beside the Lumina, waiting for Danny to drive away. He parked in a driveway at a house not far from Steve's. The owner was off on an extended visit with his grandchildren in Minnesota and wouldn't be back until fall. It made it convenient to park there and walk down the beach until he reached Steve's back yard, as if he'd just been out for an evening stroll.

Once inside Steve's house, he locked the doors and turned off the TV, checked his regular cell phone to see that the programmed calls had been made--thank you, Toast--and saw that his only incoming call was from Rachel's cell phone.  He had explained what had happened, and she wasn't thrilled with him, but she at least understood. She'd even promised to be part of the deception, and the world thought she'd just decided to take Grace to see her grandparents when school had let out.

He wasn't ready to deal with her, though, not tonight. He'd call Grace's cell in the morning, and if Rachel was there, he knew he wouldn't be able to avoid her.

All the more reason to get sleep, he realized, as he set the alarm and climbed the stairs to Steve's room, falling onto the bed and into sleep immediately.

***

It wasn't Rachel he dreamed about.

Like every other time Danny had passed out in Steve's bed for a nap over the last few days, it was the bed's owner who haunted his dreams. Sometimes it was a constant replay of Chin shoving Steve in the HPD cruiser, the look on Steve's face as bad as any nightmare Danny could conjure up. Other times it was snippets of memories of the past few months. The other dreams...those were best forgotten.

He might not have been dreaming of Rachel, but it was her ringtone that woke him far too early--though he suspected noon was only early to anyone who hadn't slept in days and had been busy breaking someone out of jail in the middle of the night.

"Hello?" he answered, trying to sound awake, but she didn't buy it.

"Did I wake you?"

"I was taking a nap. Couldn't sleep last night."

"Ah," she said, and he could tell by the silence she was choosing her words carefully. "Long night trying to get your boss cleared?"

Danny sat up, blinking sleep out of his eyes as he switched the phone to his other ear. "I made a lot of calls, did some research. Still nothing."

"So I assume you slept through the news that he wasn't in his cell this morning?"

"What?" His surprise wasn't entirely faked--he hadn't expected her to have heard already. "It was on the news in New Jersey?"

"No, Danny, I do get news alerts from Hawaii on my phone. Your Commander McGarrett may be important to you, but he's hardly national news headlines."

He wasn't as sure about that--it was only a matter of time before the 24-hour news networks picked up on the alleged murderer of the Governor of Hawaii having escaped from prison, but if they weren't talking about it yet, all the better. Then again, Rachel wasn't really the type to be glued to CNN.

His burner chirped from the nightstand; he'd turned it up before passing out in case Steve needed to reach him. He grabbed the phone while Rachel rattled on about the abysmal weather in New Jersey, smiling as he read Steve's, _'what happens when I run out of beer?'_

 _'call AA - you had too much to run out this fast,'_ Danny sent back.

 _'not if you come drink some of it.'_

"Daniel."

Danny blinked at the burner, remembering the phone he had pressed between his cheek and shoulder. "Sorry," he said. "I had...it's something to do with the case. I can't talk about it, sorry. What were you saying?"

He could feel the glare that went with the sigh from the other end of the phone line. "Never mind. Grace would like to say hello."

Danny put the burner down on the bed beside him, smiling as Grace yelled, "Danno!" into the phone.

"Hey, Monkey, are Grandma and Grandpa spoiling you rotten yet?"

"A little," Grace admitted in a smug tone that said they were treating her like a queen. "When are you coming here?"

"I don't know yet," Danny said, feeling the first pang of homesickness he'd had time for in days. "Soon, I hope. I have to take care of something for Steve."

"Is he there?" Grace asked. "Can I talk to him?"

Danny swallowed hard, hearing the excitement in her voice. She was going to miss Hawaii, or at least some things about it. "He's not here right now, but I'll make sure he calls you when he can, all right?"

"Okay. Tell him I said hi. I miss you."

"I miss you too, baby. Be good for your Mom, okay?"

"I will."

"Good. Danno loves you."

"Love you too, Danno."

The call disconnected without Rachel coming back, so he put the phone back on the night stand and leaned back against the headboard, eyes closed for a second until the burner's chirping got his attention.

 _'bad time?'_

Danny pictured Steve sitting alone at the safe house, nothing to distract him but the internet, no connection he could make with anyone except through the phone to Danny. He started to type a response, then changed his mind and dialed Steve's number. "Sorry about that," Danny said after Steve answered. "I was talking to Grace."

"How's she doing?"

"Being spoiled rotten by my parents," Danny said, "so not bad. I just...." Danny sighed, leaning against the headboard again. "I miss her."

There was a long pause on Steve's end. "You could've gone with them."

"No, I couldn't. Anyone would think you don't even know me at all."

"I know you."

Steve's voice was low, and Danny shifted restlessly in the bed, shoving the covers off one leg. "Then you know I'm not leaving here while you're in trouble."

"Yeah, I do."

But he still felt the need to try to push Danny out, like, what, he didn't deserve Danny's loyalty? Even after a little sleep, Danny was still too tired to figure out what was going on in Steve's head. "Okay, so no more talk about me going anywhere. Did you get some sleep?"

"A little. You?"

"The same." Danny checked the clock by the bed. "I have a couple of things I have to follow up on," Danny said, ignoring the fact that what he was about to say was a bad idea. "I think after that I may have to come back and take a nap."

He could almost picture the look of confusion on Steve's face as he said, "Okay...."

"Or maybe take a walk on the beach. Visit a _friend_. Maybe bring my _friend_ some beer."

"Okay...oh. Yeah, that, um...that sounds like a good idea. You should do that."

And really, it shouldn't make Danny so happy, the way Steve's voice had brightened. But it did. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah. Later."


	2. Betrayed by Bones

Danny met with three different informants, two of them skittish because they didn't know him--Kamekona apparently hadn't done a good job convincing them to trust him, only in scaring them into showing up--and one who knew Chin and was a little more trusting. From him, Danny learned that Wo Fat had said something about getting his hands on Steve's phone.

"His phone?" Danny asked, frowning. "Why?"

"I don't know, brah." The informant might've been trusting, but that didn't stop him from trying to look in every direction at once for danger, even in a dark alley. "I just heard an order went out to find it."

"All right, thanks. You hear anything else, you know how to reach me." Danny gave him some money and watched as he ran off. He took out his burner and texted Chin to call when he could.

That done, he stopped by the store for Longboards before heading back to Steve's. Once there, he changed into jeans and a t-shirt, something that wouldn't look out of place for a walk on the beach, and put the beers in a cooler bag. He left his phone in the kitchen and a short stroll down the beach later, he was in the Corolla and on his way to the safe house.

He pulled quietly into the drive behind the house and turned off the engine, texting Steve to let him in. A moment later, the back door opened, and Danny grabbed the beers and went into the kitchen, watching Steve lock the bolts behind them. "I see you're actually doing what I told you."

"You sound surprised," Steve said, his mouth curving up on one side.

"Surprised that you actually did something I told you to do for self-preservation? I can't imagine why that would surprise me."

"Sarcasm is so ugly on you."

Danny laughed. "Sarcasm is a sign of intelligence, my friend, and intelligence is never ugly." He thought for a second. "Well, maybe if it's being used to commit a crime, but that's not the case, so there."

"I can see why you became a cop instead of a lawyer."

"Shut up and put these in the fridge and get me a cold one, will you?" Danny said, handing Steve the bag. Danny went through the kitchen to the living room, where the laptop was sitting on a trunk functioning as a coffee table in front of the couch. He took a seat, noting that the couch was almost as bad as his pull-out in his apartment--one thing he definitely did not miss while staying at Steve's was that couch.

Steve handed him a beer, clinking the neck of his own against it before sitting down, wincing and shifting to get comfortable. "Not the best furniture," Danny said. "Sorry about that."

Steve shrugged. "It beats a prison cot."

"True. Still...." Danny traced the surfboards on the label of his beer, "it feels odd, staying at your place, sleeping in your bed, while you're stuck here."

"At least I know my place is safe," Steve said, and cleared his throat before taking a long drink of beer. "Besides," he continued, eyes trained on Danny's ear, "nou ka hale."

Danny went back over the last few sentences, trying to figure out what was causing that look on Steve's face. Probably the reminder of prison, he decided. "Nou ka hale?" he repeated.

"Sorry, mi casa es su casa. Better?"

"What, English isn't good enough for you?"

Steve laughed, rolling his eyes. "Did you find out anything today?" he asked, sitting up straighter.

Danny took a sip of his beer, trying to nurse it, since he'd have to drive home later. "Not a lot," he said, wishing he had better news. "I did find out that Wo Fat is looking for your phone."

"My phone?"

"Yeah. Any idea why?"

Steve bit his lower lip, his eyes narrowing. "When I confronted the governor," he said slowly, "I hit record on my phone and told her I wanted a confession. When I was down, before I passed out, I think I heard something...I think she might have deleted it. The whole thing is hazier than I would like--fucking tasers."

"Do you know where your phone is?"

"No idea. I'm assuming HPD picked it up. It could be stored somewhere in evidence, or it could be with my personal effects. Depends on if they thought it was relevant to the case."

"All right, I texted Chin and asked him to call when he's in the clear. Maybe he can find it."

Steve's deep breath was audible. "You're sure it's safe for him to help?"

"You think I could stop him?"

Danny's burner rang, and he checked the screen. "Speaking of..." he said, hitting the talk button. "Chin."

"Hey, I have a couple of minutes. What did you need?"

"Do you have any idea where Steve's phone is?"

There was a long pause. "Did he have it on him when he was arrested?"

"You were the one who dragged him away in handcuffs," Danny said, his tone probably sharper than Chin deserved, but just because it was for the greater good didn't mean it hadn't stung, seeing Steve like that. "Didn't you search him?"

"No," Chin said, the word clipped. "And I don't remember seeing it at the station. It must've been in the room somewhere, so it's probably locked up in evidence."

"Can you get it?" When there was a long silence, Danny prompted, "Chin?"

"Sorry, I was just...I think I can. Might take me a day."

Danny nodded to Steve, so he'd know Chin had said yes. "Let me know if I can help?"

"Sure. I'll call you if I need help, otherwise I'll call when I have the phone."

"Thanks." Danny glanced at Steve. "I've got somebody who wants to say hi," he said to Chin, and handed Steve the phone.

Steve stared at it for a second like he didn't know what to do with it, then put it up to his ear. "Hey," he said quietly. A few seconds later, Steve's, "You don't need to apologize. I know what you're risking to help. Thank you," made it clear what Chin had said.

He listened to Steve and Chin talk for a minute more, then Steve hung up. "Thank you," he said to Danny, handing him back the phone.

"Thought it might be nice to hear someone's voice other than mine," Danny said as he shoved the phone back into his pocket.

"Already tired of being my only link to the world, Danny?" Steve teased.

"No, I just thought...I mean, I know it's hard, stuck here, unable to talk to anyone, cut off from what's going on." Danny picked at his beer bottle label, little pieces flaking off into his lap. "I figured maybe a few friendly voices here and there might make it a little easier." He looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye. "Grace says hi, by the way. I forgot to mention that earlier."

Steve's smile was that one he always got when Grace was mentioned, the one that made Danny smile along with him. "Tell her hi," Steve said, and then his smile faded. "Danny...I'm sorry."

"For which thing?"

The laugh Steve gave at that was small and strained. "Oh, I don't know, the fact that your daughter and your wife are 5,000 miles away from you because of me?"

"Ex-wife," Danny corrected, feeling a little awkward when Steve just shrugged as if it was a technicality. "Anyway, last I checked you were just doing your job. Wo Fat is responsible for the rest of this."

"Danny--"

"No. You do _not_ get to take responsibility for his crimes." Danny shifted on the couch until he was facing Steve, one leg bent across the couch cushion. "Steven."

Steve stared at his bottle for a moment before looking up at Danny through his lashes. "If I hadn't gone after--"

"No." Danny took a deep breath. "I swear to God, you are going to drive me completely insane, you know that? We are _cops_. We are _not_ responsible for what the bad guys do; only for cleaning it up. And if that gets a little messy...it's not like we're under any illusions what we signed up for."

Steve's crooked smile was back. "Did you just call me a cop?"

Danny rolled his eyes and laughed a little, relaxing back into the corner of the couch. "I guess after all this you've earned it."

"Thanks."

The word was heartfelt, but heavy, and Danny tried not to stare at the way Steve wet his lips with his tongue before putting the beer bottle back to his mouth.  "So," Danny said, and cleared his throat, "does this place have cable?"

"Afraid not," Steve said. "I've looked around for something to do, and all I've found in the house is a deck of cards. Wanna play poker?"

"With you?" Danny raised his eyebrows and nodded at the duffle bag in the corner of the living room. "No thanks. I know how much money you have--I brought it, remember?"

The way Steve looked him up and down made Danny shift in his seat again, and he took a long drink. "We're wearing about the same amount of clothes," Steve said blandly. "We could play strip poker."

Danny choked on his beer. "The way you're always yanking off your clothing at the first opportunity we wouldn't make it through one hand before you were naked," Danny said, hoping Steve blamed the flush Danny could feel rising up his neck on the beer.

Steve gave him a long look, long enough that Danny suspected the beer wouldn't be a good enough excuse if Steve called him on it. "Wouldn't do me any good anyway," Steve said, taking a drink. "Your clothes would all be too small for me."

"Are you mocking my size?" Danny tried to sound more threatening and less outraged.

"Not at all," Steve said, all wide-eyed innocence. "Just stating a fact."

Danny snorted. "I will have you know, Steven, that good things come in small _er_ packages."

"Are you trying to tell me you've got it where it counts, Danno?"

Danny stared at him for a moment. "Did you happen to find some of the previous tenants' product? Maybe take some of it?"

"Sorry," Steve said, shaking his head, staring at his Longboard again. "Too much enforced solitude. Makes me unfit for company."

He looked so lost that all Danny wanted was to fix it so that look would go away. "You won't be here much longer," he said. "We'll clear you."

"I know."

Nothing about Steve's tone or his posture suggested that was true. "Could you maybe try saying that with a little more certainty?"

Steve nodded. "I know?"

"Oh that was _so_ much better," Danny said. "Do you really have so little faith in us?"

"No, I have faith, it's just...." Steve tapped on the side of his bottle with one finger a few times. "He's been ahead of us the whole time," he said, finally, looking up at Danny again. "It's hard to believe he won't stay that way."

"Have you forgotten that the governor was feeding him information left and right? Because I would think that was a pretty big advantage, one which he has now lost."

He regretted that reminder the moment he saw the pain in Steve's eyes. "I haven't forgotten that, thanks."

"I'm sorry." Danny ran a hand through his hair, looking around the room, his eyes fixing on the computer. "Have you found anything?" he asked, nodding at the laptop.

"Nothing we didn't already know, though Toast set that thing up with so much access Chin would be jealous."

"Really?" Danny picked it up and clicked around, half-listening to Steve listing out all the law enforcement programs he could access. "Hey, did you happen to notice this?" Danny said, pointing at a folder on the screen.

Steve leaned in, close enough that Danny could smell his scent. "What?"

"This folder," Danny said, clearing his throat again. "The one that says 'movies.'"

"I didn't see that."

"Yeah, it looks like Toast put everything that's come out in the last six months on here. So much for not having anything to watch." He glanced over at Steve. "Trust you to find every military and government toy on the laptop but not the fun stuff."

Steve shrugged. "I wasn't expecting it."

"Well, now we've found it, so we have something to kill the time."

"You're staying?"

Danny glanced at his watch. "I can stay for a movie."

It was worth the extra risk to see a full smile finally light up Steve's face. "Okay. Good."

They chose an action movie that neither of them had had time to see when it was out a few months before, picking it apart mistake by mistake, but enjoying that as much as the actual plot. They had to lean into each other to watch together on the laptop, and Danny couldn't pretend he didn't enjoy Steve pressed against him shoulder to foot.

When the movie ended, Danny pulled away to stretch, instantly missing the warmth of Steve beside him. "I should probably get going," he said, looking at his watch again.

"Yeah."

The lost look was back. "Hey," Danny said, laying his hand on Steve's forearm. "It's not forever."

"Not yet."

Danny frowned. "Huh?"

"You'll clear me," Steve said softly, the belief finally there. "And then you're moving back to New Jersey, right?"

Oh. He'd forgotten about that, and now that he thought about it, he hadn't actually told Steve. "Who...how did you...?"

"A guess," Steve said, holding himself more upright. "But it's not a guess now."

Danny shook his head. "Nothing is decided," he said. "Nothing," he repeated at Steve's look of disbelief.

Steve searched Danny's face for an uncomfortable few seconds. "Okay," he said, his shoulders relaxing a little.

"Now that we've established that I'm not planning to abandon you at the first sign of your freedom," Danny said, "can we go back to securing said freedom?"

"By all means," Steve said. "I know better than to get in your way when you're after justice."

"You make me sound like Superman."

"I was thinking more Mighty Mouse."

Danny smacked him on the arm. "You really don't want me to come back and visit, do you?"

And wow, he had to be more careful about what he said if a comment like that was going to cause that kind of fear on Steve's face, even for a second. "It's probably safer if you don't."

"Shut up. You don't get a say."

"Okay, then, stay as long as you like. Stay the night."

Danny swallowed hard against the sudden wish that he could, and for all the wrong reasons. "I have to go," he said softly.

"I know."

Danny got up, Steve following him to the back door. "Text me," Danny said, before he undid the locks and walked out without saying goodbye. The word just wouldn't come. He waited until he heard Steve lock the bolts, and then got into the Corolla and drove back to Steve's neighborhood.

He let himself into Steve's house and checked his phone. Two missed calls from Rachel and one terse message timed with the second call that just said she'd call tomorrow. He took the phone upstairs with him and left it charging on the nightstand, contemplating a shower.

He sniffed, and realized he could still smell Steve from the time they'd spent pressed together watching the movie.

Maybe he'd just lie down for a bit before his shower. He dropped onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard and kicking off his shoes. Once he was comfortable, he pulled the burner out of his pocket. _'did you lock all the doors?'_ he texted.

 _'yes, dad. did you?'_

 _'yes.'_

 _'thanks for coming.'_

 _'anytime. night.'_

 _'night, danno.'_

He put the phone on its charger by his regular one and turned off the light, closing his eyes and tilting his head toward the arm Steve had been pressed against, inhaling the scent as he fell asleep.

***

A phone call pulled him out of his sleep late the next morning, the ring unfamiliar until he woke up enough to recognize it as the burner. He grabbed it, almost missing the fact that the screen showed it to be Chin's burner and not Steve's. "Chin, what's up?"

"Hey, I only have a minute. You need to be sitting at O'Toole's having lunch in under an hour. Got it?"

"Yeah."

Chin hung up without another word. Danny sighed and put the phone down, shaking himself awake before he rolled out of bed. He was sitting at O'Toole's in forty-five minutes, eating a sandwich, when he saw Chin walk in. Chin spoke to someone sitting at the bar before looking around and spotting Danny. He said something else to the person at the bar and crossed the room to Danny's table.

"Nice to see you," Chin said, his voice far more reserved than Danny had heard since the night Chin had arrested Steve.

Danny wasn't sure what the protocol was here. "You, too."

"How've you been?"

So they're being watched, then. "Me? Fine. Fantastic. Peachy," Danny said with just a trace of bitterness. "A little busy, trying to clear McGarrett--you remember him, right? Our boss, the guy who yanked you out of security guard hell and made you a cop again?"

And yeah, maybe he still harbors a little resentment from the memory of Chin stuffing a handcuffed Steve in a police car.

"Danny, if you know where he is, you need to turn him in."

"Even if I did--which, by the way, I do not--why would I?"

"Because you're a duly sworn officer of the law, and it's your duty," Chin said with more emotion than Danny was expecting. He bumped Danny's table in the process, knocking his silverware off. "Sorry," he said, bending over to pick it up and placing it back on the table.

Danny stared at him for a long moment. "The fact that you can even say with a straight face that _duty_ would be a reason to turn Steve in after _everything_ that's gone down in the last week is just...I don't even know what to say to you."

"It's my job," Chin said. "Speaking of which, I have someone I have to talk to. If you hear from Steve--"

"Call HPD immediately. Yes. I know. I've been told. Multiple times."

Danny watched until Chin was seated at the bar by his friend, then looked at his meal in disgust. He signaled for the check and left money on the table, glaring at Chin when he walked by.

It was only when he was in his car that he pulled the envelope Chin had managed to sneak into Danny's pocket--and he was going to ask Chin about some past he must have as a pickpocket--and open it. Inside he found Steve's phone and a note in Chin's writing.

 _"Switched it out. Don't know how long before they notice. Nothing important on the phone, but there may be deleted files. I didn't have time to check. Can you take it to someone else?"_

Danny smiled. He knew exactly where to go.

***

Toast was in his customary seat, headphones on, when Danny walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. He didn't flinch, just turned around, sliding the headphones off in one fluid motion. "Jersey," he said, nodding at Danny. "Howzit?"

"Just great," Danny said, wishing people would stop fucking asking him any version of how things were. "I need a favor."

"And I thought you were here for some relaxation," Toast drawled, leaning back in his seat. "What do you need?"

Danny pulled Steve's phone out of his pocket. "I need to know if there are any deleted files on here. Anything someone might've tried to erase. Any chance the files would still be on it?"

Toast took the phone, turning it over in his hands a couple of times. "Has it been backed up recently?"

"I don't know, but even if it has, I don't think what we're looking for would be backed up. It's from the last day it was used, a few days ago." He looked around. "I'm especially interested in an audio file, but don't rule out anything else you find," he said quietly.

"Has it been off since then?"

Danny shrugged, trying to gloss over the details while still giving him enough to work with. "I'm guessing it's been off most of the time, but I don't know who has done what with it."

"I'll need a little time," Toast said, studying the edges of the phone as if they had an answer for him.

"How long?"

"A day or two. If I can't find it by then, it's not there."

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how he was going to tell Steve it would take a couple of days. "Okay," he said, trying to keep any impatience out of his voice, "thanks."

"Sure, brah." Toast glanced up at him. "All that equipment working okay?"

Danny nodded. "It's been extremely useful. Even the movies. Thanks. I owe you."

"Hey, I'd be in a cell if it weren't for you. Don't mention it."

With a wave, Danny walked back to his Camaro and headed back to Steve's house.

***


	3. You and Me

He waited until he was settled on Steve's couch with a beer before he texted Steve to say he'd gotten the phone and he had someone trying to recover anything that might've been deleted. That done, he put the burner on the coffee table and picked up his regular phone to call Grace's cell.

She answered quickly. "Danno!"

Danny could never help but smile when he heard that. "Hey, Monkey. You being good?"

"Of course. Are you coming to Grandma's soon?"

"I don't know when I'm coming, honey. I still have to finish some things here."

"I miss you."

Danny tilted his head, resting it on the back of the couch and closing his eyes. "I know, baby. I miss you, too. I'll see you soon, though, okay?"

"Okay." He heard a voice in the background. "Mommy wants to talk to you."

Shit. "Okay. Danno loves you."

"Love you, too!"

He heard some fumbling, and then Rachel's voice. "Hello, Daniel."

Make that fuck. "Rachel."

"Did you think you could avoid me by calling Grace's phone?"

"Of course not. I just...I wanted to talk to her for a minute. I was going to call you next."

Which he was, but he didn't think she'd care if it was true or not. "I thought...hold on," she said, and he heard footsteps and a door creaking closed. "I thought you wanted this, Danny. I thought we both wanted the same thing. That's what you told me."

"I know, and I meant every word." He had, too, that was the bitch of it. He had been caught up in the romance with Rachel and how it felt like he'd gotten back everything he'd lost, living in their tiny little bubble that was safe and familiar. He'd wanted to go back to New Jersey and away from everything in Hawaii that was confusing and potentially damaging to his entire life.

And then he'd seen Steve shoved into the back of a police car, and he'd forgotten Rachel even existed.

"You 'meant' it? So you don't anymore?"

"That's not what I said."

"But you're not denying it."

He took a deep breath. "Rachel, you know I can't let this go. I have to stay and see this through."

"I think I knew that before I got on the plane."

He frowned at the finality in her tone, the sudden feeling they were having two different conversations tugging at his brain, but the burner chirped at him before he could follow that train of thought. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind. I have to make sure Grace gets her bath. I'll speak to you tomorrow."

She hung up before he could even say goodbye. He held out the phone, staring at it for a moment before dropping it on the coffee table and picking up the burner to see Steve's text.

 _'how long for my phone?'_

 _'a day or two'_

 _'that long?'_

Danny sighed and hit talk. Steve answered immediately. "Sorry," Danny said. "Apparently it takes time."

"No, _I'm_ sorry. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. I appreciate everything you're doing for me."

He wasn't sure how much longer he could handle that careful tone. It was so far from Steve's usual voice that it hurt. "You're not ungrateful, all right? Unlike when you don't appreciate that I let you drive my car almost all the time, or that I pick up the tab practically every time we go for beer."

It got the desired laugh, even if Danny knew his comment had sounded hollow and totally not up to his usual ranting standards. "It's good to have a scale to judge these things on."

"I can create you a color-coded chart if you want."

"I think I can live without it. Though if you wanted to bring your crayons over...." When Danny hesitated, Steve said, "Or not. I found some stuff the people who lived here before left behind. That'll keep me busy."

Danny moved to the edge of the couch. "Stuff?" he asked warily.

"Chemicals. I think they were making more than drugs. I thought I'd try--"

"Steven. You cannot blow things up. What part of 'under the radar' do you not get?"

"I'm not going to blow anything up Danny. I know what I'm doing."

He slumped back into the couch again, eyes closed, hand over his face. "I'll be there in an hour. And _no_ playing with the makeshift chemistry set in the meantime!"

"But I was--"

"Steven. Say, 'Yes, Danny.'"

"Yes, Danny."

"And you'd better have all your fingers and toes and there better not be anything on fire when I get there. Understood?"

"Yes, Danny."

"Good. See you soon."

He hung up, tossing the phone next to his regular one on the table. He knew he probably shouldn't be going to the safe house again so soon, but he couldn't say no to Steve, not under the circumstances. Then again, he'd never been very good at saying no to Steve under any circumstances, no matter how insane the idea. Well, he said it a lot, but sticking to it was difficult at the best of times.

And the way Steve sounded so lost and alone, stuck in that house, unable to do anything, tore at Danny's resistance more than anything. The tone matched the look that Danny still had nightmares about, Steve staring at him through the back window of a police car, shell shocked and more than a little hopeless.

Of course, the fact that Danny could resist the lure of his ex-wife, mother of his child and a half, to get his ass straight back to New Jersey he put down to logic. He couldn't do anything for her at the moment and she was safe. Steve was in danger, and that he could do something about. No contest. If she didn't understand that, then she still didn't know him, even after all these years.

He picked up his burner and headed for the back door.

***

It took Steve a minute to undo the bolts and let Danny into the house. "What happened?" Danny asked as he walked in, turning to watch Steve relock the bolts. "Did I catch you in the middle of--" Danny's brain caught up with him, and he turned back to the kitchen sink his eyes had swept past as he'd turned. "Steven," he said carefully, "what did we say about the explosives?"

"I didn't play with any explosives."

"Then what," Danny asked, rubbing the spot between his eyes that always seemed to ache when Steve and explosives were involved, "is that?" Danny waved at the kitchen sink, where there was a huge mess, and at the counter beside it, where five cans clearly rigged for something sat in a neat row.

Steve shifted from one foot to the other and back again. "Those aren't explosives," he said, hands on his hips. "They're stun grenades."

"And a 'grenade' by definition explodes," Danny explained, as if Steve were five. "Ergo 'explosive.'"

Steve shook his head. "They don't really explode," Steve said, rubbing at the side of his neck. Danny noticed dirt and something suspiciously like a burn mark there. "Well, okay, _technically_ it's a small explosion, but it's contained. And they're non-lethal. The point is to temporarily neutralize the enemy by disorienting their senses while you--"

"Steven!"

Steve blinked. "Yes?"

Danny took a deep breath, lowering his voice, trying his best to sound reasonable. "Was there, or was there not, an explosion in this kitchen?"

"Um." Steve scratched at the burn on his neck. "A small one," he said, holding his thumb and forefinger just a little apart. "I wasn't sure what grade the magnesium was, so I had to see if--"

"Stop. Just stop right there. I don't even want to know." Danny moved his hand to cover both his eyes as he turned away, praying for patience. After a few seconds, he let his hand fall to his side so he could see as he walked into the living room. "Can you please," he said, as he dropped onto the couch, "stop making anything go boom, or doing anything else that in any way might draw unwanted attention to you?"

Steve stood in the doorway. "Okay," he said, after a moment. "I have enough of them anyway."

"Enough for what? For the army that you're expecting to drop down from the ceiling and attack?"

"For Wo Fat's men if they come looking for me."

Of course. "Okay," Danny said, because he couldn't exactly argue with that. "Fair enough. You could've said, though. I could've picked up some actual ones instead."

"And make everyone wonder why you suddenly need flashbangs? Because that wouldn't draw any unwanted attention or look at all suspicious."

Well when he put it like that.... "Okay, fine. You needed the grenades."

" _Stun_ grenades," Steve said with a hint of a smile.

"Whatever. I need a beer."

Steve disappeared into the kitchen and came back a moment later with two open beers. He sat down next to Danny, clinking their bottles together before taking a sip. "How's Grace?" Steve asked.

"Fine." Danny took a long drink.

"How's Rachel?"

He kept drinking until he needed to breathe. "Fine," he said, wincing inside as he heard the bitterness in his tone.

"That good, huh?"

"Can we just not talk about it, please?" He wasn't ready to talk about everything going on in his head, and he especially wasn't ready to talk about any of it with Steve.

Steve was eyeing him thoughtfully. "Danny, you can go to New Jersey, you know. I'm out, I can fix this on my own."

"Didn't we agree not to have this discussion again?"

"Yes, but--"

"Then we're not having this discussion again."

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again, watching Danny for a few seconds. "Okay."

"Okay."

Steve's phone rang, and he frowned as he yanked it out of his pocket and hit talk. "Chin?"

Danny struggled to hear, but couldn't. From the way Steve jumped off the couch, it wasn't good. "Fuck," Steve said. "Thank you. Yeah, I'll call you."

Steve hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket. "HPD is on their way here. I have maybe three minutes."

"Fuck."

Steve grabbed the laptop, cord and everything else off the coffee table while Danny raced to the corner and brought the duffle bag for Steve to throw it into. "Anything upstairs?" Danny asked.

"Nothing but bathroom stuff. Can be replaced," Steve said as he ran into the kitchen, Danny on his heels. "Danny, you need to go," Steve added as he swept the grenades into a canvas satchel that was on the counter beside them.

"Okay, um...get somewhere out of sight and call me. I'll find another place to--"

Sirens wailed, close, too close, and Danny's heart sunk. He could hear the screeching tires pulling out up front. So much for three minutes. "Never mind," Danny said. "Let's go."

Steve looked between Danny and the living room, where HPD was already trying to knock the front door down. Danny grabbed Steve's arm and pulled him to the back door, undoing the locks and shoving Steve out in front of him. He had the keys in his pocket to the Corolla, so he shoved Steve into the driver's seat and dropped the keys in his lap before running around to the passenger side and jumping in.

"There's another exit there," Danny said, pointing at what looked like part of the privacy fence, but he knew was actually a gate--another selling point of the safe house. "Go!" he yelled, as the police cautiously approached the car, telling them to get out with their hands up.

"One second," Steve said, reaching into the satchel he'd thrown in the back seat and pulling out one of the grenades. He pulled the pin, and Danny braced himself as Steve threw it out the window before he floored the car.

Danny looked back to see bright light and smoke, but nothing that looked like it was going to kill anyone, as they broke through the gate to the alley behind the fence. Steve spun around, hitting the actual road and slowing down to an almost sedate pace, for him.

"Why aren't you hurrying?" Danny asked.

"Because they're not right behind us, and if we blend, no one will notice us until we can at least get somewhere we can hide."

"And where is that?" He'd put Steve in the driver's seat for a reason--if anyone would know all the hidden places on the island, and all the back ways to get there, it was him.

Steve thought for a moment. "We need a different car. So let's go get one."

He wasn't sure he wanted to know where and how that would happen, so he didn't even ask, he just pulled out his burner and called Kamekona, who answered on the first ring. "Man, you know you guys are all over the news?"

"Yeah, I'm not surprised," Danny said. "Look, can you go get a motel room--somewhere out of the way and quiet where they don't ask questions--and call me back."

"Sure, brah. No problem."

Danny stabbed the end button and shoved the phone in his pocket, checking over his shoulder, but there didn't seem to be anyone chasing them yet. He was about to give in and ask about a different car when Steve pulled onto the freeway. "Where are you going? I thought we were going to hide."

"We are. At the airport."

"We're going to hide at the airport?"

"Well, we're going to park this at the airport and borrow someone else's car. Anyone taking a trip won't notice their car is missing for days." At Danny's look, Steve said, "You got a better idea?"

He stared at Steve for a long minute, then shook his head. He was done planning for now--he just leaned his head against the window and watched his side mirror for any sign of trouble.

Steve pulled into the economy lot, taking the ticket from the machine and finding a parking spot towards the back. Once they had the car parked, he grabbed his bags from the back seat. "Time to go car shopping," he said to Danny.

Danny got out of the car, following along as Steve picked a car, picked the lock, then hotwired it in the time it would take most people to get the keys in the ignition. "Let me guess," Danny said. "You learned that in SEAL school?"

"Actually, no, I learned that in high school," Steve said with a grin, as he pulled the car out of its parking spot. "But I learned how to hotwire a lot of other vehicles in SEAL school if it makes you feel better."

"It really, really doesn't."

"Hand me the parking ticket and some money," Steve said as he pulled up to the exit and paid the attendant, who was thankfully paying more attention to her phone call than to who was in the car.

It was only when they were safely away from the airport that Danny managed to get his shoulders somewhere closer to their normal distance from his ears. "We need somewhere to go until Kamekona calls."

"I know a place."

***


	4. World on Fire

The place turned out to be some deserted road in a park Danny had driven within a mile of and never known existed. Steve pulled over and turned off the car, getting out and stretching before sitting on the hood of the car. Danny followed suit.

"Danny," Steve said, looking at Danny's shoulder instead of meeting his eyes, "I'm sorry."

"For which thing? There's a long list of possibilities."

"Chin said HPD got a tip from a neighbor who saw me going back and forth from the garage this morning. If I'd just stayed in the house--"

"But you didn't. And you can't change it. So let's stop worrying about it and start worrying about what we're going to do."

Danny's phone rang, the screen showing it was Kamekona. "Please tell me you have a room for us," he said without a greeting.

"Yeah." He named a motel Danny had never heard of and the address and said he'd meet them behind the restaurant next door to it in half an hour.

"Thanks," Danny said, hanging up. He relayed the address to Steve, who nodded and jumped off the hood and back into the car.

They waited behind the restaurant for a few minutes before Kamekona pulled up in an old pickup Danny hadn't seen before. As Kamekona waved to Steve, Danny got out of the car and went up to the window of the pickup. "Thanks," Danny said as Kamekona handed him a room key, "we owe you big." He handed Kamekona some money for the room and his trouble, and took the keys.

"Room six. Sorry, it's a double bed, but it's all they had. I don't think they get a lot of solo customers these days, you know? Oh, and here." He handed Danny a couple of baseball caps. "Probably want to keep yourselves a little hidden. And be careful. The police have been around my place asking questions."

Which meant they'd have to be very cautious about calling him again. "Got it. Thanks." Danny inhaled carefully. "Did any of the officers get hurt trying to catch us?"

"Nope, they said one inhaled some smoke, but he was fine."

Thank God and the Navy that Steve knew his stuff with explosives. "Good. Thanks again, man. Really."

Kamekona nodded and drove off as Danny got back in the car. "Think we should ditch this car?" he asked.

"Probably. Feel up to a walk?"

Danny shrugged. "Do I have a choice?"

"Yeah. I could leave you at the motel and ditch the car myself."

"And let you get into God only knows what trouble on your own? No, thank you." He handed Steve one of the caps, putting the other on his own head and pulling the brim down low. "I pushed your ridiculously large, heavy car up a hill, I think I can walk back here carrying only myself. Drive."

They left the stolen car about a mile away, in the parking lot of a large hotel, and walked back to their new hideout. Steve's silence had Danny wondering what kind of insane idea he was going to have to face when they got back to the room.

He didn't have to wait long to find out. He was just taking off his cap when Steve said, "I think you should take me in."

"Right, because they won't be watching my place," Danny said, his voice heavy with sarcasm as he checked out the window to see if it looked like anyone had followed him, but all was quiet as he turned back to Steve.

"No, I mean to HPD." Steve resettled his bags on his shoulder. "You should take me in. Tell them you found me right before they got there and were trying to get me to turn myself in, and I made you come with me."

"Okay, a, _nobody_ is going to buy that, b, even if they would, my fingerprints are _all_ over that house, so it's going to be kind of obvious I've spent some time there, and c, I'm _sure_ there is video of me driving the car we used to run from the cops. Plus, d--and this is a _very_ important d, Steven, so _please_ make sure you are listening carefully-- _what_ would be the point of all of this if you just walked _right_ back into jail and signed your own _death warrant_?"

Steve flinched, and Danny took a deep breath, lowering his voice. "The answer is no. I'm not turning you in, you're not turning yourself in. We stick to the plan. We prove your innocence. Got it?"

"Got it," Steve said, his tone odd. Danny ran through his mental 'Many Faces of Steve' collection and couldn't place the look, either. "Okay," Danny said, looking around the room. He was thankful for the small refrigerator and microwave in the corner. "We need food, and a few other things, and there's a convenience store across the street. Your face has been all over the news for days, but mine hasn't until now, so I'm going to risk it, because if we starve to death, this will have all been for nothing."

Steve nodded, moving away from the door and putting the bags down on the dresser. "Be careful."

" _You're_ telling _me_ to be careful?" Danny shook his head. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, brushing against Steve as he leaned over to reach into the duffle bag. He checked to make sure both the chargers and the extra phone were in there before pulling out some money. "Don't...blow anything up," Danny said as he pocketed the money, looking up to realize he was maybe an inch from Steve's face.

Steve's eyes had little flecks of color that were mesmerizing, until Danny realized he'd been standing too close and staring too long. "Food," he said, stepping back and clearing his throat as he looked around for his cap. He tucked his hair up into it as much as he could to hide the blond and reached for the door, walking out without looking back.

The store was well-stocked, with only one camera directly behind the register. All he had to do was avoid letting that one see him easily. He bought microwave meals and sandwiches and juice--because he suspected Steve would go looking for it otherwise--and water and beer. He also picked up toiletries for both of them, since his were back at Steve's house, and Steve said he'd left his at the safe house.

He was relieved to find t-shirts and underwear, since Steve had clothes in the duffle, but Danny had nothing but the clothes on his back. They didn't have pants, but they had ugly, loud board shorts, which he groaned over before purchasing the least horrible of the bunch--a bright blue pair with yellow palm trees.  

Once he had everything he could think of--since coming back out was not high on his list--Danny paid for it all, keeping his head low so the cap would block the camera from seeing his face. He turned right when he left the store, as if he was going to the hotel up the street, then crossed over and made his way back to their room.

When Danny opened the door, Steve was on the bed, laptop open in front of him, but one foot on the floor and a Sig in his hand. He recognized Danny, and put the gun on the nightstand before settling back against the headboard, laptop across his thighs.

Danny looked away from the sight of Steve sprawled on the bed and noticed the stun grenades were on the floor by the bed, the satchel open. "Expecting an attack?" Danny asked, nodding at the satchel as he locked the door behind him and took off his cap and moved the curtain on the window aside just enough to make sure he hadn't been followed.

"Any reason I shouldn't be at this point?"

Satisfied that it still looked quiet outside, Danny acknowledged Steve's comment with a tilt of his head. "Fair enough," he said, as he put the cold groceries away in the refrigerator. He turned back to watch Steve for a moment, lazing on the bed with the laptop on his lap, his black t-shirt riding up a little, giving Danny a glimpse of the stomach underneath. Not that he didn't know what everything under the shirt looked like--it was practically burned on his retinas after all the time Steve had spent shirtless.

He cleared his throat and turned away, digging through the bags for a few items before crossing the room to the bathroom.

"Hang on," Steve said.

"What?" Danny asked, turning to face him. "Can't I take a shower?"

"Take a gun with you."

Danny blinked at him. "Take a gun? To the shower? Are you expecting ninja shower assassins?"

"No, but if something happens out here while you're in there, you should be armed."

"I am not using a gun against HPD."

"I didn't mean HPD, Danny," Steve said, giving him the 'You Idiot' Look.

Danny sighed. "Fine," he said, though privately he thought Steve and his armory by the bed would take care of anyone who came in the front door before Danny could even notice the noise. He picked up a Glock from the duffle bag and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, pulling off his clothes and getting into the shower.

The water was barely lukewarm, which did nothing to improve his mood. The events of the day were catching up at last, leaving him wondering how the fuck had they ended up trapped in a crappy motel room on the run from...well, everyone. A week ago, they were the most elite cops on the island, closing in on Wo Fat. And now they were fugitives, cooped up in a motel, and he couldn't even talk to his daughter.

Not that he would change any of it if Steve's death was the alternative. Even if he'd had time to think, he'd have made the same decisions. He hadn't had any other options. The only decision he might have changed in the last week was leaving Steve alone when he'd gone to see Rachel. He should've known exactly what Steve would do, but he'd ignored it, and that was how they'd ended up here.

If he'd stayed with Steve that night, if he'd told Rachel he had work to do and he'd see her another time, then maybe they'd still be free, Grace would still be here, and the governor would still be alive. Maybe.

Or maybe Wo Fat would've rigged the governor's car with the same kind of bomb he'd used to kill Laura Hills. And Steve's mother. And Steve would be in jail, blamed for the deaths of Laura and the governor, and Danny would have to protect Rachel and Grace while still trying to get Steve out.

Fucking Wo Fat. He really wanted to get his hands on the guy--if Steve didn't shoot the fucker in the face, Danny would.

He got out of the shower and dried off, glaring at the ugly shorts before pulling them on. He added one of his new plain white t-shirts and stared at his utterly ridiculous reflection in the mirror before padding back out into the room to find Steve still sprawled on the bed, looking as if he was on vacation. One hand was behind his head, the other lazily tapping and clicking on the laptop keyboard.

"Did we make the news?" Danny asked, trying to force a levity he was nowhere near feeling, as he dropped his dirty clothes by the dresser.

"Oh yeah," Steve said, slowly raising his head from the computer. "We're the--" He stopped, staring at Danny for a second before bursting into laughter. "Where did you get those shorts?"

"Excuse me?" Danny said, the last thread holding his anger at the world snapping. "You want to make fun of my clothing, Steven? You _really_ want to do that right now? I will have you know that I am wearing these _monstrosities_ only because I had to leave my clothes, my phone, and everything else but _literally_ the shirt on my back behind when we had to _run_ from the police. From the _police_! The very people that until recently were my _colleagues_. I can't even call my _daughter_ because they've probably tapped her phone, Rachel's phone, and my parents' phone, and it sucks, okay? It _sucks_. So _please_ , will you shut up about the damn shorts!"

All trace of amusement disappeared from Steve's face. "I'm sorry," he said, quietly, his features arranging themselves into their standard 'Everything is My Fault' setting. Which...well, okay, not all of it was Steve's fault. In fact, most of it was not Steve's fault. Okay, Danny grudgingly admitted, pretty much all of it was not Steve's fault. He was just a convenient outlet for Danny's frustration.

"It's okay," Danny said tiredly, his anger dissipating. "Sorry. I know it's not your fault."

Steve huffed as if he wanted to disagree, but he didn't, and Danny crossed the room and sat down beside him on the bed. "Look," Danny said, "none of this is easy for me, okay? I'm having a little trouble dealing with the situation. It doesn't mean I blame you."

"Why not?" Steve asked, giving Danny a sidelong look. "I was the one who went and did everything you told me not to. If I had listened to you and not gone to the governor's mansion, I wouldn't be accused of her murder. If I had listened to you and stayed in the safe house, no one would've seen me and called the cops."

"And if you'd listened to me and not broken into the mansion in the first place, we wouldn't have proof of--"

"Inadmissible proof," Steve interjected.

Danny smacked him on the arm. "Shut it. We wouldn't have proof of what was going on, and we wouldn't know we're on the right track." Danny shifted on the bed to face Steve, leaning in a little. "If you hadn't gone to the governor's mansion, he'd probably have bombed her car just like Laura's, and made sure you were blamed. All you did was speed it up and maybe get us more evidence."

"If the recording is still on the phone."

"Think positive."

Steve's eyebrows mushed together into what Danny called 'Sour Lemon' face. "Since when did you become Mr. Optimism?"

"I'm not. But it's either that or we blow ourselves up with your grenades."

"Stun grenades, Danny. They won't kill us."

"If we blew all of them up at once?"

Steve gave a half shrug, half nod. "Maybe then, yeah. I'm not sure I'm ready to go that far just yet."

"What? You're opting _not_ to blow something up? Wow. Call Ripley's, please. Right now. Maybe they can get you into the next printing."

That finally got a small laugh out of Steve, and Danny let himself relax a little. "Here," Steve said, putting the laptop on the bed in front of Danny. "Read all about our supposed exploits. I'm going to take a shower."

Danny watched as Steve picked up the Sig off the nightstand and gathered some things before closing himself in the bathroom. He read the stories about their "daring flight from justice" online, stopping after the third article that said pretty much the same as the first two, as if they were all written from the same set of talking points. Fugitives, murder, Governor, yadda yadda.

He wondered how many of the media worked for Wo Fat.

He put the laptop aside and checked his phone, just in case he'd missed any messages, but there was nothing. He itched to call Toast and see if there was any progress or even any hope, but he didn't dare. Toast might be...well, toasted, but he was smart enough to stay out of trouble after his last run in with the law. He wouldn't call until it was safe. And Danny would be endangering one of the few connections they had left if he called Toast at the wrong time.

If only he could call Grace. But contact with anyone from his family would surely be monitored and get them busted. And they were running out of places to hide.

He knew Rachel would tell Grace something to keep her from worrying, even though Rachel would be worried herself, but it couldn't be helped. He was stuck with this, and he couldn't even be entirely sorry, because the thought of Steve on the run with no one to watch his back made him slightly nauseous.

God help him, he actually felt better now than he had when he was alone at Steve's house.

"I am a sick individual," he said to the hotel walls, before he flopped back on the bed and pulled a pillow over his head.

He heard the bathroom door open, and Steve's bare feet stepping across the carpet. "As suicide attempts go," Steve said, "that's a pretty weak one."

"Shut up," Danny said from under the pillow. "I'm not killing myself. I'm hiding."

"From what?"

"Everything."

He didn't need to see Steve to know what his face looked like in the long pause before his drawn out, "Okay."

Danny peeked out from under the pillow. "I need a beer."

"And food," Steve said. When Danny saw Steve going for the fridge, he sighed and sat up, putting the pillow behind his head once more. Steve brought the premade sandwiches over to the bed with two Longboards, and they mocked the stories they'd both read about their flight, trying to top each other on what outlandish stories the reporters would come up with for them next.

"Did you see the one," Steve asked, as he cleared away the mess from their dinner, "that suggested I killed the governor because she wouldn't let me marry you?"

Danny blinked. Hard. "What?"

"I guess not," Steve said. "It was one of those ridiculous trashy sites. They quoted three separate 'sources' who said they thought we'd already been married in secret."

"Seriously?" Danny shook his head. Given the number of people who'd joked about them being married, he wasn't _entirely_ surprised at that part, but still....

Steve nodded. "They said your ex-wife had taken your child to the mainland to escape your horrible gay influence."

At the mention of Rachel and Grace, Danny sobered, and Steve winced. "Shit, Danny, I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I didn't mean to bring it up. I..." Steve looked at him helplessly for a moment. "I know it's killing you not to be able to talk to Grace. I was trying to distract you, not focus your attention on it."

Danny took a deep breath. "It's fine. It's not like I wasn't thinking about it every other minute anyway." He slid off the bed to stand up, stretching his muscles. "I'm going to get ready for bed," he said, heading into the bathroom without a backwards glance.

***


	5. Slow Slow (Run Run)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note - there's a link in here when they talk about a computer file called "jersey.mp3" that you can click on to go hear the file just the way they hear it in the story. :)

Danny climbed groggily out of sleep, vivid images from the dream he'd been having still floating through his head, flashes of Steve in a tux and Grace with ribbons in her hair. And...helicopters?

He blinked a few times, frowning at bright lights from his dream that still flashed behind his eyes when they closed. It was still dark. Why was he awake? And why was he having trouble moving?

The second question was answered when his brain caught up enough to recognize the feel of skin on skin where Steve's forearms rested on top of Danny's. One of Steve's legs was trapped between Danny's, and his arms were locked around Danny's torso. Steve's breath was warm and even against Danny's neck.

He should probably work his way out of Steve's arms and put some distance between them. Or at the very least, be somewhat mortified. But he was too tired for either, and he was too comfortable where he was to bother.

Smiling a little to himself, Danny snuggled back in and drifted off back to sleep.

***

When he woke again, he was alone in the bed. He heard Steve nearby making noises that sounded vaguely obscene and did nothing to dampen Danny's morning erection and everything to encourage it. Managing to blink his eyes open, Danny sat up and looked around to find Steve on the floor on the other side of the room in nothing but his shorts, his ass in the air, legs spread wide, looking back at Danny from between his legs.

"Okay, am I still asleep, or are you actually standing like that?" Danny said, then cleared his throat against the lingering roughness from sleep.

"It's called yoga, Danny," Steve said, pressing himself even further into his bend. "You should try it."

Danny raised his eyebrows. "No thanks--it looks like an invitation to pull something. What do they call that anyway, flexible football player pose?"

"Prasarita Padottanasana," Steve said.

"Parasite what?"

Steve pushed himself to his feet and turned to face Danny. "Never mind," he said, slinging a towel around his shoulders and crossing the room to stand beside the bed.

Danny could smell him, could feel the heat from his exercise radiating off him. He cleared his throat again. "I didn't know you did yoga."

"I don't always," Steve said with a shrug. "It's something I resort to when I'm confined and my exercise options are limited. So the last week...." Steve shrugged again. "Let's just say I'll be glad to give up the sit-ups and stretches for the ocean, and soon. I hope."

"It will be soon," Danny said.

Steve's phone beeped from the night stand, and he moved around the bed to look at the screen. "I have a surprise for you," he said, looking at Danny with the most genuine smile he'd had since they'd fled the safe house. "Where's your phone?"

Danny pulled it off the charger on the night stand of his side of the bed, handing it to Steve with a frown. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see," Steve said, reading numbers off his screen and punching them into Danny's phone. When he was done, he hit talk and handed it back to Danny, whose frown deepened as he put the phone to his ear.

"Daddy!" was the excited shriek that greeted him a second later, and he dared anyone to blame him for the way his eyes watered happily at the very sound.

He knew his grin was probably huge, but Steve's was almost as large. "Hey, Monkey! How are you?"

"I'm okay. How are you?"

"I'm better now that I'm talking to you."

There was a voice in the background before Grace said, "Mommy wants to talk to you, but she let me answer the phone. Hold on."

His smile faded a little as he heard the phone change hands and heard Rachel send Grace out of the room 'for a minute.' "Daniel."

"Rachel."

At the mention of Rachel, Steve nodded and walked away. "What happened?" Rachel asked.

Danny heard the bathroom door close. "I was bringing Steve some supplies and HPD got a tip, and they saw me there, so we had no choice but to run," he said as he heard the shower start.

He didn't need to see Rachel to know what every inch of her looked like that second, just based on the sigh and the tapping of her finger against the phone. "Honestly, I don't even know what to say. I wasn't even sure how we were going to find you when this mailman showed up this morning with a package and said it was for Grace from someone named 'Smooth Dog.'"

Danny barely managed to hold back a laugh--he sensed that wouldn't go over well with Rachel. "It's Steve's nickname from when he was in the SEALs."

"How was I supposed to know that? If there hadn't been a note inside explaining a little more, I'd have been having it checked for a bomb."

"Grace knows the name. And what was he supposed to tell you out loud, Rachel? I'm assuming you guys are being watched."

"Of course. We can't make a move without someone following us. Just one more joy of this past week."

Danny sighed. "At least you're not on the run from the police," he said, letting a touch of his bitterness through.

"Yes, but unlike you, I did nothing to ask for this."

 _Except have an affair with me, get pregnant, and then try to drag me 5,000 miles away in the middle of this mess._ He didn't say that, though--whatever might have been right or wrong in what he and Rachel had done, it hadn't carried a jail sentence. "I didn't exactly do anything to ask for it either," he said quietly.

"And yet here we are."

He wondered where the warm, excited woman from a week ago had gone. He wondered why it didn't bother him more that she had disappeared. "Yes," he said shortly. "Here we are."

"Anyway," she said, sounding stiff and formal, the way she had the day she'd told him she wanted a divorce, "I asked Grace to step out for a moment so I could tell you...I was wrong about the pregnancy."

His stomach sank. "Wrong?"

"I thought I was pregnant. I was so sure. But I've seen a doctor...and I'm not."

"Oh." He closed his eyes momentarily, feeling the loss of a chance at another Grace, tiny fingers and toes and a toothless smile, of 2 a.m. feedings and being exhausted as hell and not even caring because you made something so amazing. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too," she said, her voice a little softer now. "That I'm wrong, and that I told you before I knew for certain."

 _You told me to get me away from Hawaii, whether you were certain or not._ "I understand," he said, not up for an argument. "Don't worry about it."

"It's just...I thought we'd have a chance if we got away from Hawaii, so when I thought I was pregnant...it seemed like a sign. I thought if we could get away from...from all the distractions there, that we could start again. That it would be like it was when Grace was born."

He understood that far too well, and wondered if maybe the biggest problem between himself and Rachel was that they were too much alike. "We can't go back, Rach."

"I know. I've... _we_ have both moved on."

"You married Stan."

"Yes. And you have--" He heard a door open in the background, and then Grace's voice. "Grace wants to talk to you again. I'll speak to you later."

She was gone before he could ask her to finish her sentence. "Daddy?" Grace said a second later, her voice more anxious than before. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay," Danny said, faking a bravado he didn't even remotely feel. "I'm talking to you. How can I not be okay?"

He heard a door close on Grace's end of the line. "It's just...I heard Mommy and Stan talking, and they said you were in trouble."

Danny froze. "You heard Mommy talking to Stan on the phone?"

"No, in Mommy's room last night, before he left."

In Rachel's room? "Stan was there?"

"I'm sorry, Danno, I know I wasn't supposed to be listening, but I just wanted to ask Mommy for some water, and they were kind of loud so I heard through the door."

Stan had been there. In Danny's parents' house. He wondered that his father hadn't tossed him out on his ear, but then his father had always been far more fair and rational than Danny. "It's nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart. Just a misunderstanding. We're getting it cleared up now."

"Okay. Do you think we might be able to go home soon?"

She'd gone from asking when he was coming to New Jersey to asking when they were going 'home' to Hawaii. He resisted the petty urge to ask her just what else she'd heard Stan and Rachel saying. Before the ink was even dry on the divorce papers he'd resolved never to be the kind of parent who pumps his kid for information to use against the ex. "I don't know, baby. I'll talk to your Mom about it, okay?"

"Okay."

"I have to go," Danny said, wishing he could talk longer, but he knew the risks, even on untraceable phones. "I'll call you again soon, okay?"

"Yeah. Love you, Danno."

"Love you more."

He hung up, his eyes stinging as he dropped the phone on the bed beside him before he could throw it across the room. Finding out he was about to be a father again in the middle of everything that was going on...it hadn't seemed real. Nothing about the future he'd thought he was heading for with Rachel had, not really. It was like one of the dreams he'd had early on about getting everything back, about the three of them being a family again...a nice dream, but never meant to be reality.

Maybe he'd just pushed the whole thing out of his mind to deal with the mess that was here and now. Or maybe he hadn't had time to process the idea of having another child. He felt the loss, he couldn't deny that, but he felt like maybe it should be stronger. Like he should care more that he'd thought for a week he would have another kid, and now he won't.

Or that he'd thought he'd have a family again, and he won't. Not with Rachel, and not with his 5-0 family, not if things kept going from bad to worse.

"Fuck my life," he said, picking up the pillow and throwing it at the door.

***

By the time Steve came out of the bathroom, Danny had at least managed to compose himself, even if he hadn't bothered to pick up the three pillows, metal ash tray and plastic cup he'd thrown across the room. Steve was drying his hair, wearing only a pair of cargo pants, but as he dropped the towel to his shoulders, he looked around the room before frowning at Danny. "Feel better?"

"No," Danny said, holding onto his composure with difficulty, "I do _not_ feel better, Steven, but thank you for asking."

"Okay." Steve took the towel back into the bathroom and checked out the window by the front door before picking up everything Danny had thrown and quietly putting it back in its proper place. "You wanna tell me what that was about?" Steve asked at last, as he sat down on the bed beside Danny.

Danny drummed his fingers on his thigh, trying to keep his breathing even while he decided where to start. "Right after O'Reilly was murdered, when you went home--or so I thought, anyway--I went to see Rachel. She told me she was pregnant," he said, staring at his hand, his fingers still tapping away on his thigh. "She was pregnant, it was mine, she wanted to leave Stan and go back to New Jersey. Immediately. That night."

He made his fingers stop, balling his hand into a fist. "And then all hell broke loose, and the governor was dead, and you were in jail, and I missed the flight. Didn't even give it a second thought. Didn't even _remember_ until the plane landed in LA for their connection and Rachel called me."

Steve had been silent, almost too silent, perfectly still, in fact, since Danny had said 'New Jersey.' Danny turned his head just enough to see Steve's face firmly set in 'Hey, That's a Bomb' mode, every feature on his face frozen except his eyes, moving rapidly as they searched Danny's face. He could see Steve's throat working, could tell he was trying to decide what to say. Or possibly how to say it; it was always a tossup.

"You were going to leave me--us, in the middle of all this?"

His voice lacked emotion, unless you knew him well enough to add up the sum of all his physical tells and a certain strained tone, along with the all-important 'me' in that statement. Something about it was ringing bells, but Danny wasn't sure what they meant just yet. "No," he said, "I mean, yes, but only for a day or so. Rachel was pregnant and traveling alone with Grace. I wanted to make sure they got there safely. And it wasn't 'all of this' yet. I was coming back to help see it through, but then things went south, and...leaving never entered my mind after that. I wouldn't have." He twisted on the bed a little to meet Steve's gaze fully. "I _couldn't_."

Steve still had that look, and Danny needed to know what it meant. "I..." Steve started, eyes searching Danny's face for a minute, and if he concentrated, he could almost--

Danny's phone rang, jarring him out of his thoughts, and Steve looked away, scratching his nose and clearing his throat. Danny grabbed the phone and looked at the screen. Toast. Fuck. He couldn't ignore it. "Did you find something?" he asked as soon as the phone was up to his ear.

"I did, and having heard it, I'm guessing it's exactly what you're looking for. There were a few sections ruined from the deletion, but it seems intact enough for what you need."

Danny let out his breath in a long stream, his shoulders slumping a little. "Thank you. I owe you big time." Steve was looking at him again, so Danny gave him a smile. The one he received in return almost made him forget what he was about to say. "So, um, I can try to find someone to come get it from you, but it may take a day."

"You still got the laptop I gave you?" Toast asked.

Danny grabbed it from the floor beside the bed and opened it up, watching it wake up from sleep mode. "We do."

"Then you don't need to send anyone. Is it on?"

"Yeah."

"Hang on." Danny heard tapping in the background followed by a long pause. "Okay, check the folder called 'drop' on the desktop."

Danny clicked on it, and saw a file called '[jersey.mp3](http://www.megaupload.com/?d=6VDJIY8K).' "You are a genius, Toast."

"I know," he said as if it were a matter of fact, not a boast. Which, Danny had to admit, it was a matter of fact, so, fair enough. "I'll hold onto the file and the phone for you, if you want."

"Yeah, do that. I'll let you know what to do with it when the time comes. Thank you, man. Seriously."

"No problem."

Danny hung up and put the phone down, looking at Steve. "Should we listen?"

"Yeah."

Danny pressed play. He found it hard to listen to Steve's voice so stressed, just this side of out of control, and only barely restrained. God help Wo Fat if Steve ever got the chance to kill him, because Danny figured the odds were about even on Steve actually doing it, depending on how far Wo Fat had pushed him to get there.

Then again, Danny wasn't sure he wouldn't do it himself.

When Danny heard the taser, followed by a muted thud, it made his body tense. He glanced at Steve, who was staring at the computer as if it was the single most important thing on the planet.  The governor's frantic voice came out of the speakers with, "What are we going to do? We have to get rid of him," and then the file ended.

"Fuck!" Steve pounded the bed with his fist. "Wo Fat kept his damn mouth shut. He's not on the recording."

"Hey," Danny said, laying his hand on Steve's forearm, "it's okay. It should be enough to help clear you, and we can start from there, all right? Clearing you is the first priority. We can go after him later."

Steve was breathing deeply, his nostrils flaring, but after a moment he jerked his head in Danny's direction and gave a short nod. Danny squeezed Steve's arm before letting go. "Do you remember what was in the parts that are blank?"

"I asked her about the ten million somewhere," Steve said slowly. "It's still kind of a blur, but I remember asking her if she put the money in and she said yes."

"Just as well that part's missing then," Danny said, wondering if Toast had anything to do with that. He knew if that was the case, no one would ever figure it out. "Okay, I'm going to text Chin to call so we can tell him what we have. We can go from there."

His text to Chin got him a phone call in under thirty seconds. "Got a minute?" Danny answered.

"A few. What's up?"

"We recovered most of the file from Steve's phone. Here, listen." He held the phone to the computer and played the conversation again for Chin, pressing his shoulder to Steve's as they listened, unsure at this point who the contact was supposed to help. When it was finished, Danny put the phone back to his ear. "Any ideas on what we can do with it?"

"I think so," Chin said. "I managed to get pictures that most of the department doesn't know about showing Steve has marks on his neck consistent with a taser. It's solid evidence, too--the guy taking mug shots took a couple of shots because he thought it might be evidence, but he wasn't sure who to go to. He took a chance on me."

Danny couldn't help the smile. "Always a smart move. Toast has the file from the phone. I was out there the other day, so maybe you could visit, pretend to ask him if he's heard from me, and get a copy?"

"I'll go out there right after we hang up."

"Then what?"

"Let me talk to a couple of people. I know you guys want this over with, but if it's not handled carefully...."

"Take your time," Danny said. "We can't afford to screw this up."

"Okay. I'll get back to you as soon as I can, but it may be late tonight or early tomorrow."

"Fine. Whatever you need to do, just be careful."

He heard Chin's laugh. "I'm the only one who ever is."

Danny couldn't argue--Chin was the only one currently not suspended or a fugitive, after all. "Rub it in, why don't you?" Danny joked. "Thanks," he said more soberly, putting weight on the word.

"No thanks needed. But you're welcome. Call you soon."

Danny texted Toast and told him to give a copy of the file to Chin but keep a copy and the phone. That done, he put the phone back on the night stand and the computer back on the floor.

"So," Steve said, "more waiting."

"Afraid so." Danny nudged him with his shoulder, giving him a crooked smile. "But this time it might be over."

"Maybe." Steve took a deep breath, staring out at nothing for a moment before turning back to Danny. "Beer?"

"Definitely beer."

***


	6. Your Surrender

"Y'know," Danny said, examining the remaining contents of his bottle against the light before draining the last of it, "I have to say, one thing Hawaii _might_ have on New Jersey is the beer." He frowned at his bottle, enjoying the pleasant warmth of being just this side of drunk, and annoyed with the bottle for being empty. He placed the bottle carefully on the nightstand beside his other four empties. Despite his attempts at carefully placing it on the table, it still knocked off the trash from the sandwich and chips he'd had for lunch. "They don't have Longboard back home."

Steve paused, his bottle halfway to his lips. "Did you just say something nice about Hawaii? Because I think I might have to cut you off."

"You are not funny," Danny said, going over to the refrigerator and getting two more bottles. "I know you think you are," he added as he popped the tops off, "but you are not."

He plopped back down onto the bed and handed Steve one of the bottles. Steve finished off his old bottle and added it to his own collection. "I'm just saying," and Steve's voice was far too casual, cutting through the  slight haze in Danny's head and putting him on alert, "you're in such a hurry to go back to New Jersey, I wouldn't expect you to have suddenly found anything good about Hawaii."

Danny tapped his beer bottle against his nose a few times. "Who says I'm in a hurry?" he asked finally, looking sideways at Steve. "I forgot I was even supposed to go--what part of that looks like I was in a hurry?"

"The part where your pregnant ex-wife is waiting for you there instead of being here with her husband?"

"She's not," Danny muttered, taking another drink.

Steve blinked rapidly. "But you said--"

"I know, but I didn't get a chance to tell you the whole story." Danny slumped back against the headboard, closing his eyes. "She's not pregnant," he said after a long moment. "She said she thought she was, but she was wrong. That's what the call was about this morning."

Steve was deathly silent until Danny opened his eyes and looked at him. "I'm sorry," Steve said quietly.

"I'm not." Danny pushed himself up a little straighter against the headboard. "I mean, I am...but not as much as I should be. You know?"

At Steve's nod, Danny continued. "It was nice," he said, his finger tracing the ugly flower print in the bedspread, "going back and pretending like it was 1999 and we were happy and in love with no baggage. Like everything that sucked didn't exist. But it's not who we are." He met Steve's gaze. "Not anymore. We're still us, and we never work. Not in the end. I know that, I've always known that." He thought about his conversation with Grace again. "Besides, it's clearly not what she wants either, since Stan is apparently in my parents' house trying to get her back."

"Stan's in New Jersey?"

"So Grace says. I didn't ask her anything else, but if Rachel let him into my family's home, I can't be what she wants." He gave Steve a long look. "And," Danny added slowly, "it's not what I want. Not this time."

Steve's eyes searched his, and that _look_ was back, and Danny knew he was so close to figuring out what the hell it meant. "So what _do_ you want?" Steve asked.

"I don't know." The words came quickly, and Danny was calling himself a liar and a coward in his head even before he'd gotten them out of his mouth. Because he knew. He knew exactly what he wanted, even if it felt like he'd been coming around to the realization of it for fucking ever. And what he wanted was right there in the bed, asking the one question Danny couldn't possibly answer, not without giving away far too much.

And looking at Danny as if Danny might explode if Steve touched just the wrong wire. Looking oh-so-careful and still, but with that intensity in his eyes that if Danny didn't know better would make him think--

Oh.

It was like when all the pieces of a case came together at once, only so much sweeter and so much more important...and far more dangerous if he was wrong. Because if he was, not only was he ruining a vital relationship, but the two of them were also stuck in the room together for God only knew how long.

The last of his beer buzz died as he studied Steve closely, taking in the tension in every muscle, the way his hands were clenched as if he was afraid he might reach out and grab, the way his tongue kept darting out to wet his lips and his throat worked to swallow far too frequently. Danny finally met Steve's eyes, almost black, with only a thin rim of hazel around the edges.

He wasn't wrong. He was _almost_ positive he wasn't wrong.

Only one way to find out for sure.

He put his bottle down blindly on the nightstand with one hand, the other reaching for Steve's neck and pulling him into a kiss. He counted less than two seconds before Steve's arms were around him, those fists clenching Danny's shirt as Steve's mouth opened, drawing Danny deeper into the kiss.

It was better than he'd dreamed, and he was remembering now all the times he _had_ actually dreamed about this, fragments of images and feelings coming back to him from the past few months. Steve tasted like beer and the turkey from their sandwiches, and something else, and Danny tried to press closer, tried to get his tongue in further to find more of that indefinable taste. He pushed until Steve was on his back, Danny sprawled on top of him, both of Danny's hands gripping Steve's hair.

Steve's hands stuttered their way down Danny's back to rest on his ass, fingers clenching rhythmically, making Danny's hips move in little thrusts against Steve and okay, that...that was new, another cock pushing hard against his, but it was incredibly hot, and he could get used to that, given about three seconds.

He managed to wrench his mouth off Steve's. "Off," Danny said, raising his head just enough to look down at Steve, satisfied to find he looked as wild-eyed as Danny felt. "Clothes," Danny said, tugging at the hem of Steve's t-shirt, "off."

Steve smiled, pulling at Danny's shirt, frowning when it wouldn't move. "Oh," Danny said, realizing he was keeping them both from getting undressed as long as his weight was pressing Steve into the mattress. Danny pushed up onto his knees, whipping his shirt over his head and throwing it behind him without bothering to look where it went. He frowned down at the drawstring tie on the shorts, having to turn and sit on the bed to get it undone and get them down, flopping onto his back to pull them off in one fluid motion with his underwear and throwing them across the room.

He turned back to deal with Steve's clothes only to find him already naked and waiting, the slightly nervous, slightly hopeful look on his face a little at odds with the heat in his eyes. "Seriously," Danny said, his eyes traveling down Steve's chest with a new appreciation--or at least new in the conscious sense, since he recognized that feeling in the pit of his stomach, only now his brain had context for it--"was it, like, one of the badges they  gave you at SEAL camp, being able to strip naked in under 15 seconds?"

"I think you're confusing us with the Boy Scouts," Steve said, his grin taking over his face.

"You mean SEALs aren't always prepared?"

"I didn't say that." Steve reached out, and next thing Danny knew, he was on his back, and Steve was hovering over him, his elbows pressed into the mattress on either side of Danny's arms. "We're just a far cry from Boy Scouts."

Steve leaned in, pressings his lips to Danny's with far more caution than Danny needed or wanted, and Danny reached up, his hands finding the back of Steve's head and pulling him in tighter as Danny opened his mouth into the kiss again.

It was even better with full skin against skin, and the feel of Steve's cock pushing against Danny's thigh made him want to work his way down Steve's body until he could examine said cock more closely. He wanted so many things, and he wasn't even sure exactly what he was doing, just following his instincts.

Steve shifted to his side without breaking the kiss, and then Danny felt Steve's fingertips lightly gliding down Danny's chest, making his stomach muscles shift as that hand dipped lower until it wrapped around his cock. He gasped into Steve's mouth as Steve's fingers slid carefully up the length of Danny's cock, one finger circling the head before moving away.

Danny pushed up, looking for more contact, and he felt Steve's chuckle, and then suddenly Danny's mouth was free. He frowned so hard it hurt his forehead, opening his eyes to see Steve's gaze, hot and heavy, studying Danny's face. Whatever he was looking for must've been there, because Steve just smiled before ducking his head to taste Danny's throat.

Which was just..."Jesus," Danny said, his hands clutching at Steve's shoulder blades now, and really, he'd have been more embarrassed by the unbridled need in his voice if it hadn't been for the way Steve was sucking greedily at Danny's collar bone as if he hadn't eaten in a week and it was dinner. "Let me guess, sex was another SEAL badge?"

Steve made a negative sound against Danny's skin, moving further south, lips mapping the length of Danny's sternum. "No badges," Steve said somewhere around Danny's stomach, and okay, his voice was just as bad, and the sound of it made Danny thrust up, his cock brushing against Steve's arm.

"I'll _make_ you a badge if you speed this up," Danny said, trying to get a leg over Steve's to pull him down on top of Danny and give him more contact, but Steve grabbed Danny's thigh and pinned it to the bed.

"Trust me," Steve said, pausing to look up and meet Danny's eyes. "Let me do this."

Trust him? As if that was in question--they wouldn't be holed up in a motel if Danny didn't trust Steve more than the whole of HPD, the FBI and whoever the fuck else must be looking for them by now. Danny nodded, and he saw another flash of a smile before Steve lowered his head once more, nipping at Danny's belly button before moving lower with increased speed.

Danny focused on breathing until he felt Steve's tongue, hot and wet, flicking against the head of Danny's cock, and he forgot how to breathe entirely. He dug his fingers into Steve's shoulders and considered threatening to shoot him if he tried to move, but then that thought disappeared as well as Steve's mouth covered the tip of Danny's cock.

And really, he'd had blow jobs before, but this...looking down and seeing Steve's lips stretched around him, his head moving lower as Danny's cock disappeared slowly into his mouth...nothing he'd ever experienced could compare. He watched as Steve slowly took him in, until Steve's nose pressed against Danny's abs, and Danny could feel his whole body straining with the effort it took not to move, not to thrust up into that welcoming warmth.

Steve swallowed around him, eyes closed as if he was getting off on it, and Danny groaned, biting his lip as he arched up, ready to beg if that was what it took, but then Steve moved again, his mouth sliding back up Danny's cock and down again and again, establishing a rhythm that Danny met with tiny thrusts of his hips. Something about it was so much more intimate than fucking, and he never wanted it to end, but Steve was hollowing his cheeks, sucking him off in every sense, and Danny couldn't hold back much longer.

"Steve--" Danny's fingers scrambled to grip Steve's shoulders, slick with perspiration, "I'm...Steve..."

He looked down, and Steve's eyes were open once more, meeting his with a heat that made everything else Danny had seen pale in comparison, and Danny's eyes slammed closed as came, pushing up into Steve's mouth, hands sliding off Steve's shoulders to grip the bedspread as if he needed an anchor.

Long moments later, Danny managed to uncurl his fingers, wincing at the soreness in them as he let go of the bedding. He could breathe somewhat normally again, and he managed to open his eyes. Steve was lying beside him, his hand stroking his cock while he stared at Danny. Just stared, his gaze heavy on Danny's face, his tongue snaking out occasionally to wet his lips, his head so still when his hand was moving so rapidly below.

Danny turned onto his side, his fingers closing around Steve's wrist to stop him, moving Steve's hand off his cock and off to rest on his hip. Danny wrapped his own fingers around Steve's cock, trying a few strokes before bringing his hand up to lick at his palm.

At the bright flare in Steve's eyes, combined with the way Steve's throat worked when Danny licked his palm, Danny repeated the motion a few times, longer and slower, just to watch Steve's reaction, before wrapping his hand around Steve's cock again. His movements were more confident this time, and he leaned in to capture Steve's lips, licking into Steve's mouth and speeding up his hand until he felt Steve tense, heard his breath hitch as he pushed forward hard and came.

Danny worked him through it, letting go with reluctance when it was over, wiping his hand absently on the already ruined bedspread before gripping the back of Steve's neck and hold him in the kiss a moment longer.

He pulled back at last, eyes opening to see Steve watching Danny closely, his eyes serious, a hint of a strain around the corners of his mouth. Nothing about his face, or the tension in his body, spoke of someone who'd just gotten off.

Danny put his hand on Steve's cheek, leaning in for a lingering kiss. "Stop that," he said quietly.

"Stop what," Steve said, eyes narrowing until they were open just barely enough to see.

"Stop with that whole 'The World's Going to End' face," Danny said. "It's not."

"It's not?"

Fuck. He really wasn't kidding with the face. "No, it's not. In case you missed it, I'm not exactly the type to be taken advantage of."

"I know," Steve said, but his tone wasn't comforting.

"And I'm not the type to do something I'm not completely on board with, either," Danny further clarified, and okay, that helped, as some of the lines of tension on Steve's face cleared away.

But not all of them. "There's a difference," Steve said slowly, "between being on board at the time, and living it every day...."

"Seriously," Danny said, when it became clear both what Steve was thinking and that he wasn't going to finish the sentence, "how did you get picked for Naval Intelligence when you're this stupid? I'm on board. Now, tomorrow, next year--I'm on board for the whole thing."

Danny didn't have a name for the face Steve was wearing then, eyebrows slightly raised, chin tilted up as if he was two seconds away from issuing a challenge, but he could translate it nonetheless, and it wasn't particularly flattering to Danny. Fortunately, he knew enough to take it in the spirit of Steve's weird issues and not as an insult. "But Rachel--" Steve started.

"--was comfortable," Danny finished. "Honestly, were you not listening to anything I was saying before?"

And _that_ look Danny did know--confusion. "I was," Steve admitted, "but you've been pining after her since before I met you...."

"And yet, when I was five thousand miles from her, it was _your_ texts and phone calls I waited for. _You_ that I was more concerned about. _You_ that I kept coming to see, missing calls from her. And, I might add, _you_ that I stayed here for. Does that sound like I was pining for _her_?"

Steve shook his head slowly, looking faintly hopeful. "No?"

"I thought she was what I wanted," Danny said, because if it took blunt anvils to get through Steve's head--which, in retrospect, he should've expected--then that's what he would use, "but I was wrong. It happens. On _very_ rare occasions," he added with a grin.

Steve's lips were finally curling up into a smile. "So you can be wrong?" he asked, one eyebrow up. "Give me a minute to assimilate that into my world view."

"Shut up, you," Danny said, smacking him on the arm, the gesture wasted when Danny couldn't manage to take his hand off Steve's bicep, his fingers tracing the ink there. He had a feeling it wouldn't be their last conversation about this, but he was ready to leave it alone for now. "Is there a story behind this?" Danny asked, tracing the tattoo on Steve's left arm.

"Mmm," Steve said, and it sounded like a confirmation from the tone.

"So what's the story?"

Steve's fingers were working their way up Danny's hip bone to his waist. "I suppose 'it's classified' isn't going to satisfy you?"

"Not unless it's true." It only took Danny one look at Steve's face to know it wasn't actually classified. "Okay, so that's a no. Spill."

Steve's full laugh sent warmth through Danny's whole body. He hadn't heard that since weeks before this whole disaster hit. "Tell you what," Steve said, lowering his voice an octave and making Danny shudder with need, "how about I tell you in the shower?"

Danny considered the ruined bedspread and his limited clothing. "It's a deal," he said, already rolling off the bed, but making sure to pull Steve along with him.


	7. Parachute

The insistent ring of Danny's phone dragged him out of a sound sleep. He had to maneuver himself out from under Steve's arm to reach the phone on the nightstand. A quick check of the screen told him it was Chin, and he tried to sound as alert as possible as he answered the phone.

"Hey, Danny, sorry to call so early, but I wanted to run something by you both."

Steve had woken as Danny was answering the phone, and as Danny sat up, Steve followed suit. "Hang on," Danny said, putting the phone on speaker. "Okay, what is it?"

"I was trying to decide the best way to approach this," Chin said. "I've gone over and over my list of HPD staff, and I don't know who to trust higher up, at least not high enough to get Steve cleared instead of just having the evidence mysteriously disappear."

"That's...not encouraging," Danny said, his eyes watching Steve for a reaction, but Steve's face remained carefully blank.

"Yeah, that was my thought. And then I realized that maybe we were going about it all wrong. When we took down Hiro Noshimuri, it wasn't because of the evidence. It was because the evidence was too public for the governor to refute without blowing her cover. She couldn't protect him without exposing the wider picture, so he became a pawn, sacrificed for the end game."

He had an excellent point. "So, what, we tell all of HPD and send the audio and picture to every computer just to cover our bases?"

"You're thinking small scale, brah," Chin said, and Danny could picture the amused smile that went with it. If Chin's mood was this good, his plan had to be pretty solid. "I have this friend who's a reporter at the Star Advertiser now. She was good to me about the money and the accusations back in the day, and she's been in touch since I was cleared to congratulate me. I think she would listen, and I think she would help."

Danny was still watching Steve, who was looking more interested now. "You want to give all the information to a reporter and hope her story persuades HPD to drop the charges?"

"Her story on the missing money may be the only reason I was never charged," Chin said, the amusement gone from his voice. "I think if she prints the story about all the evidence that Steve didn't do it, whoever is still controlling this will back down. Find a new scapegoat. Because they can't afford to push it when everyone's talking about how it might be a lie and wondering who would want to frame someone like Steve."

"Yeah, but is an audio file that sounds like she might be guilty and some taser burn pictures enough?"

"There's also the fact that he had no gunshot residue on his gloves or his clothes, according to a report that a friend in CSU managed to get to me yesterday. Unless he shot her, then changed everything he was wearing and tasered himself in the neck and then got rid of the taser before he passed out from it...trust me, it's enough for a reporter to go on."

Steve leaned in closer to the phone. "Do it."

"Are you sure about that?" Danny asked. "What if they just claim that the evidence is fabricated or tainted and that it means nothing and just keep pursuing us?"

"Then they'd do that even if we didn't use the reporter, only they'd have a much easier time without all the scrutiny."

Danny sighed heavily. It went against everything in him to go outside the proper channels on something this important. "Steven--"

"Look, Danny," Steve said, his hand wrapping around Danny's wrist. "I've heard from a couple of friends in the Navy. Unofficially, the people there who know me know this is bullshit. Officially they can't do anything about it, and they can't get involved--too high profile, and it would look like they were protecting their own. But if we give them a solid, objective reason to get involved...not only could they intervene, but they could end this quickly."

"You're sure about this?" Danny asked after a moment. At Steve's nod, Danny shook his head. "Fine. Call your reporter, Chin."

"I'll call her right now. Let you know as soon as I talk to her."

"Chin," Steve said, his voice heavy, "thank you."

"No need for that, but you're welcome."

The call cut off, and Danny put the phone back on the nightstand. "You really think this will work?" he asked Steve.

"I do. Even if HPD pursues it after this, all the Navy needs is a reason to act that doesn't make it seem like they're biased. An independent journalist who has a growing pile of evidence and questions should do it."

"And if it doesn't?"

Steve looked around the room. "How do you feel about a series of rooms like this for the foreseeable future?"

And as much as part of Danny would love to be holed up with Steve for months on end, he couldn't have that. Not when it meant being unable to see Grace. "Steve--"

"I'm kidding, Danny. If it came to that, we'd find a way to get you clear so you could be with Grace. I wouldn't let that happen."

Danny swallowed carefully. "I know you wouldn't," he said. Whether or not Steve had any control over that was the question, but it was not something Danny wanted to think about right now. It was much easier to believe that this was going to work out, that the reporter would start the snowball that fixed everything.

Hopefully without anyone dying in the resulting avalanche.

"So," Steve said, the hand that had been holding Danny's wrist letting go so Steve's fingers could trail their way up Danny's arm, "how should we pass the time while Chin calls his reporter?"

"We should probably wait to see if he calls back."

As if on cue, Danny's phone beeped with a text message. "Chin's meeting her in an hour. He said he'd call late morning."

"Hours to kill, then," Steve said, his voice lowering to an octave that made Danny shiver. "I have an idea on how to kill them."

"I'm sure you do," Danny said, leaning into the touch, as Steve's hand gripped Danny's shoulder, pulling him in until their lips met. "You'll have to tell me about them one by one," Danny said against Steve's lips, before pushing him down onto the bed.

***

A couple of hours, a shower and one quick call with Grace--which Danny had mercifully managed to make without speaking with Rachel--later, Danny was sprawled on the bed with the laptop. He was wearing a pair of Steve's jeans, rolled up a comical amount to keep him from tripping on them, and another of the white t-shirts he'd bought the day before, and was starting to wish they'd decided to hide in a shopping mall.

Steve was in the corner doing exercises, and Danny had to admit he was spending more time watching Steve get into the most interesting poses he'd ever seen outside of the Kama Sutra than actually doing research on the internet.

A fact Steve knew all too well, judging by the smirk he was wearing. "Read anything good by Chin's reporter friend?"

"Yes. Her article on Chin." He'd read it before Steve started his exercises, when he'd still had the ability to concentrate. "He might be right."

"Let's hope so."

Danny tilted his head, trying to make sense of the position Steve was twisting himself into. "If you get stuck like that, I'm not carrying you out of here when they clear you."

Steve laughed as he straightened, taking a long drink of water before stalking his way across the room in a way that had Danny dumping the laptop off the bed as quickly as he could without breaking it. "I'll have you know that's a very important exercise," Steve said in that voice that he had apparently figured out made Danny forget almost everything.

"Why is that?" Danny asked, his eyes focusing on Steve's mouth.

"It helps with flexibility," Steve said, straddling Danny's lap in one fluid motion. "Thanks to that exercise, I could tuck my feet behind my head if I really wanted to."

Danny swallowed hard, the many ways that could be so useful running through his head in graphic detail. "I think that's an excellent exercise," he said quickly. "You should do that one. A lot."

"I thought you might feel that way," Steve said, laughing as he leaned down for a kiss.

Before they could go any further, Danny's phone rang. Steve sat back on Danny's thighs as Danny reached for the phone. "Chin," he said, hitting the speakerphone, "please tell me you have good news."

"My friend agreed to write the story, and her editor is on board. She's writing now with a hope of making the 4 pm update for the website as well as tomorrow's print edition."

"Just like that?" Danny asked.

"I wouldn't say it was exactly a walk in the park," Chin said. "But with any luck, it'll be over by tomorrow. Or at least over enough that you guys are safe."

Steve shook his head as Danny started to speak, putting his hand on Danny's stomach. "That's great, Chin," Steve said. "Thanks, man."

"You can thank me in person tomorrow."

"I look forward to that. Let us know when the article goes up?"

"You got it."

Steve took the phone from Danny and ended the call, placing the phone on the nightstand. "What's wrong?" he asked Danny.

"What's wrong? You don't think it was a little easy for him to convince a major newspaper to write a story arguing against a manhunt for someone who supposedly killed the governor?"

"I think he's known her a long time and had some pretty compelling evidence. And I think that any reporter who could break this kind of story would jump at it to make a name."

Danny sighed. "Maybe."

"I also think you're worried, and you don't want to get your hopes up."

"Maybe," Danny repeated slowly after a moment.

"So don't. Just let it be enough that we're doing something and wait and see."

Danny nodded, letting his finger trace the outline of Steve's kneecap. "There's something else we've been avoiding," he said, looking up at Steve through his lashes.

"Only one thing?"

Laughing a little as his finger trailed up Steve's thigh, Danny amended, "Well, the most pressing now, anyway. Wo Fat."

He felt Steve tense. "What about him?"

"Assuming all this works, and we go free tomorrow, he's not going to just go away."

"I'm counting on that," Steve said, his thigh rock solid under Danny's hand.

"We need to protect everyone."

Steve took a long breath before sliding off Danny's legs to sit beside him, putting a couple of inches between them as Danny's hand fell to the bedspread. "I know," Steve said, his eyes on Danny's hand where it lay between them. "I was thinking about that...and I think you should go to New Jersey."

Wait, what? Danny tried to figure out where that leap had come from, before deciding to just go for total honesty. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Danny, Rachel and Grace--"

"Are safer in New Jersey without me there making them a target and with the police watching them. They can stay there a little longer. Grace has the summer before school starts again."

"But they'd be safer if you--"

"No. You do not get to decide this." Danny turned on the bed, tucking his feet under him and leaning in to make his point. "You think you are so super stealthy, but I see right through you, and you are not sending me to New Jersey to take me out of play, any more than you're going to send Kono and Chin on any wild goose chases to keep Wo Fat from coming after them."

The quick, startled glance from Steve confirmed Danny's suspicion. "I know you think you have to handle everything on your own where this is concerned," Danny said. "'Army of one' and all that bullshit, whatever. I know it's been hard to let us in on this investigation, and now that he's gone after us, you're thinking 'Hey, see, I should never have involved anyone else,' or whatever insane crap goes through your head, but no. Wo Fat pulled us into this, but we went in with our eyes open, and you're not responsible for that. This is the job we signed on for. You're not going to keep any of us from doing our job, so stop it."

Steve was silent for a long moment before he sniffed loudly. "It's the Navy," he said in a low voice.

Danny laughed. "As long as you're clear on the other, I'll try to get clear on the difference between the Army and the Navy. Deal?"

Finally hazarding a glance out of the corner of his eye, Steve nodded. "Deal."

"Okay then."

"But Rachel and Grace," Steve said, turning his head to look at Danny a little more fully, "they're going to need protection. If we're in the clear, the cops are going to stop following them."

"What do you take me for, a schmuck? You think I don't have friends back there watching them already? Like I'm going to trust my daughter to some federal idiots who can't even find you at a hotel on an island the size of Delaware?"

"Oahu is a lot smaller than Delaware, Danny."

"Exactly my point."

Steve shook his head. "Okay, if you're determined to see this through--"

"--and it's about time you figured that out," Danny interjected.

"--then we should get started, so when we _are_ in the clear, we can hit the ground running."

Danny nodded. "Now you're making sense," he said, twisting behind him to grab the laptop off the floor. "I can't imagine that Wo Fat is exactly laying low now that he thinks he has you off his ass--let's see what we can track down."

***

Danny was doing almost as bad a job of pretending to sleep the next morning as Steve was. He could feel it in Steve's arms, tense and waiting where they laid over his own, and Steve's entire body was as tight as if they were about to break down a door.

"Hey," Danny said, finally, breaking the silence after the digital clock on the nightstand had clicked off a full thirty minutes.

Steve shifted, mumbling an almost-convincing sleepy, "Mmm?"

"Nice try, but I'm a detective," Danny said, turning without moving fully out of Steve's embrace. "I know you've been awake at least as long as I have," he said, his eyes searching Steve's.

"Longer," Steve admitted quietly.

"It'll be over today."

Steve snorted. "One way or another, right? If this doesn't work...."

"But it will."

"Now look who's Mr. Optimist."

Danny shrugged. "You were very convincing last night."

That coaxed a real smile onto Steve's face. "Really, what convinced you, because if it was the thing with my tongue--"

The shrill tone of Danny's phone interrupted them, and Danny rolled onto his back to grab it from the nightstand. He saw Chin's number and hit speaker. "Please tell me it's good news."

"Turn on the TV. Channel 9."

Danny fumbled for the remote, finally locating it behind the alarm clock, and turned on the TV.

"--the search for a new suspect in the brutal murder of Governor Jameson, who apparently had illegal dealings with her alleged killer, Akita Sato," the reporter was saying. She was standing outside HQ, and Danny never realized until he saw the building how much he'd missed it over the last week.

"An article written by Lelani Rafko of the Star Advertiser brought out new evidence that appears to clear Lieutenant Commander McGarrett," she continued, "previously wanted in connection with the murder of the Governor and of her public safety liaison, Laura Hills. This morning additional evidence, including video and sales receipts, arrived at both HPD headquarters and this station, implicating Sato, not McGarrett, in both killings. Police are examining the evidence, and won't comment, but it does seem to be enough that they've put out a warrant for Sato's arrest for the murders."

Danny glanced at Steve, who was staring at the TV intently, his face unreadable. "Commander McGarrett's whereabouts are currently unknown, but police hope to find him soon and clear up any lingering questions."

The morning news switched to a story about a rescued dog, and Danny muted the TV. "Chin, this is for real?" Steve asked, his voice hoarse. "They're not just using it to lure us out?"

"I've checked every corner I can," Chin said. "It looks legit. I think it's safe to come in. Tell me where you are, and I'll come get you." Once he had the address, Chin added, "I think I'll bring Lelani, if that's all right with you."

"Fine," Steve said. "I'd like to thank her in person anyway."

"Good. See you soon."

For a long moment after Chin hung up, Danny and Steve just stared at each other. "Hey," Steve said finally, "what do you say we go home?"

"Well, half my stuff is at your place."

"I was _talking_ about my place," Steve said with a faint smile.

Oh. He wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but he found he liked the sound of calling it home. "I think that's an excellent idea," Danny said. "Of course, we might want to get dressed, get our stuff together...unless we want Chin to get here and find us like this."

Steve frowned. "Is there a problem with that?"

And really, he was incredibly thick sometimes. "With him knowing about this? No. With him seeing us naked in bed? Maybe just a little."

"Oh." Danny felt some of the tension leave Steve's arms, though Danny thought it might take a couple of days being at home without anyone trying to arrest Steve or worse before most of it would be gone. "I suppose that might be overkill."

"You're going to be possessive, aren't you?" Danny teased, sighing as if this was actually a surprise.

"I don't share," Steve said, a hint of seriousness underlying his tone.

Danny gave a soft laugh. "No kidding? I never would've figured that." At Steve's uncertain look, Danny rolled his eyes. "I'm not exactly casual about these things, you know."

Steve blinked a few times, processing--Danny really did wonder if he was some sort of super robot sometimes--and then he smiled. "Oh. Good."

"Now that we have that settled, can we get ready to go home?"

One smile and two kisses later, Steve nodded. "Let's go."

***


	8. First Day of My Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's done! Thanks so much to everyone who's been commenting--I can't tell you how much I've appreciated your feedback! Hope you enjoy the last chapter as much as the previous ones! :)

They'd only just finished packing up when Chin knocked. Danny opened the door while Steve grabbed the bags. Chin's smile turned into a laugh when he saw Danny in Steve's rolled-up jeans. "Nice outfit."

"Yeah, next time I go on the run, I'll be sure to pack a bag," Danny said. "And thanks for rubbing it in."

"Hey, at least I didn't take a picture?"

"True. And seriously, I gotta tell you," Danny said, letting Chin in the room, "I'm still glad to see you. It's nice to see someone else's face. Looking at that one," he added, jerking a thumb at Steve, "24/7 was getting old."

He heard Steve's snort. "You really want me to counter that with something?"

"No," Danny said quickly, without turning around. "But it is good to see you," he added to Chin.

"You, too," Chin said. "Both of you."

Danny turned his head to see Steve hanging back a little. "Where's your reporter friend?" Steve asked.

"In the car. You guys ready?"

Steve's hesitation was almost unnoticeable, but Danny noticed."Yeah."

"Oh, before we go," Chin said, his voice serious, "there's something else you should know. Kono's been cleared as well. It seems the woman who ID'ed her was so nearsighted she couldn't read her prescriptions clearly and overdosed last night. No witness, no crime."

He didn't sound as if he believed it, any more than Danny did, or Steve, from the look on his face. "That's...a coincidence," Steve said.

"A little too much of one," Danny added.

"That's what I thought," Chin said. "Might be something to follow up on. With you cleared, Wo Fat has to know you'd plow into Kono's case. If he was behind the woman IDing Kono, and he's covering his tracks to keep himself safe, then anything we can trace back to the source and catch him is worth pursuing. But first we need to get you out of here. Let's go."

Lelani was in the passenger seat, and offered to move to the back, but both Steve and Danny insisted she stay. Politeness aside, he wanted to stick close to Steve. It still felt weird to be out in the open, to not have to worry about someone spotting them, and if it was weird for him after only a couple of days, he could only imagine how it must be for Steve.

So he sat next to Steve, their bodies pressed against each other shoulders to ankles, as Lelani asked questions.  She was good; Danny had to give her that. Her questions were quick and thoughtful, ones that would trip up an unsuspecting liar, but still didn't feel as though she was attacking.

"Chin mentioned you had an idea who might be behind this," she said, suddenly slowing her pace. "Do you have a name you want to give me?"

"Not yet," Steve said evenly. "I like to have all my evidence before making accusations." Danny was sure the fact that if Lelani started accusing Wo Fat publicly she'd make herself a target had something to do with that.

She nodded. "Fair enough. I'm not a fan of printing them if I can't back them up with solid evidence."

"Thank you," Steve said, giving her a genuine smile. "I appreciate your help."

"I'm happy to help," she said, giving him a smile of her own, "but it's not entirely altruistic. It's a fascinating story, and it hasn't hurt my job."

"Don't let her fool you," Chin said, glancing at Steve and Danny in the rear view mirror. "She was fighting tooth and nail for you in the name of altruism to her editor."

Lelani shrugged. "Okay, maybe it's a little bit altruistic...but you don't go into reporting for the glory, you go in for the fight. If you're good, then the glory is just a benefit."

He felt Steve tense again as they pulled up in front of his house to find a police cruiser with two uniforms sitting inside, and an unmarked HPD car. "It's okay," Chin said. "I know these guys. It's safe."

Steve nodded tersely, getting out of the car, his back ramrod straight. Danny moved close to his side, their arms brushing as they walked up to the house to where two young detectives stood on the porch, almost twins with their dark hair in matching haircuts, both wearing brown jackets over gray trousers. Danny thought he recognized them, though he was sure they'd still been in uniform last time he'd seen them. "Commander," they said in unison, complete with matching nods.

With a wave of his hand, Steve ushered them inside. They went into the living room and took the two arm chairs, but Steve stood just inside the door for a minute, looking around like he'd forgotten what he was doing here.

Danny was vaguely aware of Chin talking to Lelani at the car before leaving her there and joining them on the porch.

"Come on," Danny murmured, mouth close to Steve's ear, his hand giving Steve's bicep a quick squeeze.

Dropping the bags by the stairs, Steve crossed the room to sit on the couch, Danny taking a spot close beside him. Chin stayed near the door, hovering behind the detectives like a hawk.

The explanation was quick, one detective talking, the other either mute or just not allowed to speak. The evidence clearing Steve was rock solid, and there was only the manner of Steve's breakout to deal with. At the detective's hint that perhaps the whole thing would be dropped if he let them know how he got out, Steve sat up straighter on the couch. "I walked out the front door."

"Commander, we know that's not true."

"Really? Did you see me?"

The two detectives exchanged a nervous look, and Danny had to hide a grin behind his hand. "If we could avoid another prisoner getting out that way," Detective Talky said, "I'm sure there would be no charges against you--"

"Charges?" Steve said, his jaw tight, and Danny dropped his hand to brush casually against Steve's thigh in a warning. "Detective, I heard I was about to be murdered in jail, and I got out. If you want to investigate something, why don't you investigate how that was about to happen. I was acting in self-defense, and I'm pretty sure that covers a hell of a lot more than breaking out of prison when you were falsely accused in the first place."

"Commander--"

"And while we're on that, considering that a reporter had to do your job, maybe you should have her investigate the jail instead. _She_ might actually get some results. She's right outside if you'd like to talk with her."

The detectives looked at each other again, then back at Steve. "If you wouldn't mind staying home until we can officially get this cleared up," the one said after a moment, "it would be appreciated."

"How long will that be?" Steve asked.

"It shouldn't take long. A few hours."

So it was basically a done deal and they were only using the threat to try to find out how Steve broke out of jail. Danny rolled his eyes. Whoever had sent these green kids must've been more interested in teaching them a lesson than actually getting the information.

"Then we're done here?"

They both nodded. "The uniformed officers will stay outside until it's official."

Steve tensed up again, but Danny touched his back this time. "Are you sure that's the best use of their time?" Danny asked.

"Rules," the man said.

"Fine, whatever," Steve said shortly. "Are we done?"

Another twin nod, and the pair of them left, the second one having never said a word. As soon as the detectives were in their car, Danny looked at Chin. "What did they do, pluck those guys out of the academy and put them in suits?"

Chin shook his head. "They just got bumped up last week. Not bad at analysis, but they need some seasoning. I suggested that maybe this would be good experience for them."

So it was a lesson, then, one that made things easy for Steve. "You are an evil man, Chin Ho Kelly."

"Someone had to pretend to follow the rules, might as well be someone who needs the practice."

"And if Steve had eaten them for lunch?"

"Then they wouldn't make very good detectives, would they?"

Steve nodded towards the front. "What about the cruiser?"

"Officially, it has to be there until you've got the all clear," Chin said. "Unofficially...they got rid of the reporters, and they're a buffer in case anyone decided to try anything right after you got home."

"I can take care of myself," Steve said, the tension in his body belying the casual tone of his words.

Danny rolled his eyes at Chin. "Okay, clearly Mr. Big Man here needs food and some retraining on dealing with society."

"Which is my cue to go deal with the rest of the red tape," Chin said, pushing off his chair and crossing the room.

Danny and Steve followed him to the door. "You'll call when it's finished?" Steve asked.

Chin nodded.

"And then tomorrow  we can start working out a plan to take care of Wo Fat once and for all," Danny said. "I'd like to have my daughter back."

Danny could feel Steve tense up even more where their arms were just barely touching, but Steve's voice sounded calm and even as he said, "The four of us can regroup here tomorrow." He nodded at Chin. "Can you tell Kono?"

"Sure thing." Chin put his hand on the door knob. "She's been doing some research on the side--as much as she could with HPD watching her like a hawk, so she has some ideas. She would've come with me, but she had to go sign the last of the paperwork to get her badge and gun back. She said something about coming by later, but I'll tell her to wait and we'll meet here tomorrow morning."

Danny leaned against Steve a little more. "Thanks," Danny said. He'd like to see Kono, but he sensed Steve needed at least a few more hours to ease back into his life.

"It's good to see you both," Chin added.

"Thank you," Steve said, and Danny felt a little of the tension leave him. "I...just...thanks."

"I'm just glad it turned out okay," Chin said as he opened the door. "I should call in a few hours."

The door closed behind him, leaving Steve and Danny alone. "Come on," Danny said, dragging Steve towards the kitchen.

"I'm not hungry."

"And yet you'll eat anyway." He pushed Steve into a chair at the table and pulled out everything he needed to make sandwiches. "It's a little too neat," Danny said as he piled turkey onto bread, "don't you think?"

"What is?"

Danny put the sandwiches together and brought them over to the table. "All the evidence turning up almost as soon as Lelani's story hit." He grabbed two beers from the refrigerator before taking the seat opposite Steve.

Steve shrugged. "Wo Fat's contingency plan. He probably had all that at the ready just in case. He's nothing if not thorough. And always several steps ahead of us," Steve added darkly.

"Maybe not so much anymore," Danny reminded him. "So you think this Sato works for him?"

"Maybe, or maybe he's a rival. Either way, he's not going to get out of it as easily as I did."

"Easy?" Danny said in disbelief. "What about that was easy?"

A hint of a smile finally touched the corner of Steve's mouth. "Relatively speaking," he said, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite.

"Nothing about the last week has been easy," Danny said.

"No." The smile on Steve's face grew. "It wasn't all bad, though."

Danny sniffed, smiling a little around the rim of his bottle. "No," he said softly, his body reacting to the memories, "it wasn't all bad."

"So," Steve said, after a long drink, "I'm guessing you'd probably like to get into a pair of pants that actually fit you?"

"As opposed to ones made for a giant? Yeah." Danny traced the wood pattern in the table with a finger. "And I should call Rachel."

"Right." He heard the tone in Steve's voice, but he didn't know how to fix it. Only time would make Steve not be jealous at the mere mention of Rachel's name. "I think I'll go for a swim while you talk to her."

Which was probably for the best--he wasn't sure he wanted any witnesses to this call, but especially not Steve. "Go," Danny said, nodding towards the lanai. "I'm sure your gills are rusty by now."

"I'll be back in about half an hour," Steve said, pushing out of his chair, leaning over to give Danny a kiss before disappearing into the laundry room. He reappeared moments later in swim trunks, flashing a smile at Danny before running out the door like a teenager on the last day of school.

Danny put the dishes in the sink and went upstairs to get his phone, still on the charger by Steve's bed. He flopped down on the bed and picked up the phone, ignoring all the missed calls from people who'd tried to reach him over the past couple of days, and dialed Rachel's regular cell phone.

"Danny?" she answered. "Are you home?"

"I'm at Steve's," he said. "He's cleared--well, we're still waiting for final word, but it's all but over."

He heard her exhale. "Good," she said, after a moment.  "I'm glad to hear that."

"Thanks." Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose, suddenly tired. "How's Stan?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "He's fine," she said finally. "We've been...talking."

"Rachel--"

"No, wait, Danny, listen, all right? We were wrong, and you know it as well as I do. It wouldn't work. It never did."

"I know." He sighed. "I'm surprised Stan came all that way."

She sounded a little amused. "So was I."

He was less surprised that Stan seemed so willing to forgive her--after all, Stan had been in Danny's shoes and vice versa. He smiled as he realized that no longer bothered him like it used to. It was a long time ago. "Listen, Rachel...I think you guys should stay there for a while."

"What? Why? I thought everything was taken care of."

"Steve's clear," Danny said, "but the person behind this is still out there, and I think it would be safer for your guys to stay away a little longer. Just in case."

"Danny," she started, then seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say. "Fine. Are we safe here?"

"Some of the guys from my old precinct are going to keep an eye on you."

Rachel sniffed. "You mean Joey and Mike?"

"How'd you know?"

"Did you think I wouldn't recognize them just because they were in a car across the street from your parents' house? Honestly, Daniel, they were in my house at least once a week for dinner for years."

He closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the headboard. "It's not for long," he said, hoping it was the truth. "You'll be able to come back long before Grace has to go back to school."

"All right. We'll stay for a little while. Grace is enjoying being spoiled."

"I'm sure. Can I talk to her?"

"Just a minute."

He heard footsteps and voices, and then Grace came on the phone. "Daddy!"

"Hey, Monkey. How are you?"

"Fine. I miss you."

"I miss you, too, baby. But I'll see you before too much longer."

"Are you coming here?"

Danny rubbed his eyes with the fingers of one hand. "No, I still have some things to do here, but you'll be back here before you know it."

"But I miss you."

"I know, sweetheart, I miss you, too. It won't be long, though, I promise." And he would make damn sure of it, if he had to hunt Wo Fat down and shoot him himself.

"Okay. I made you a picture; I'll email it to you."

"I'm looking forward to it."

He listened as she told him the long list of things she'd done since arriving in New Jersey, some of them things he'd already heard on other calls with her, but he didn't care. He could listen to her tell the same story a hundred times and never get tired of it. When she finally wound down, she reminded him to check his email tonight and she'd send him the picture.

"I will. I promise."

"Okay. I have to go. Gran's taking me to the movies."

"Have fun." He sat up, bracing himself for the call to end. "Danno loves you."

"Love you, too, Danno. Bye!"

She was gone, and he held the phone to his ear a moment longer before putting it back on the nightstand, feeling her absence more than usual. He'd moved 5,000 miles to be with her, and now she was back in New Jersey and he was 5,000 miles away once more.

But she was happier here, he couldn't deny that. And seeing her happy made him happy.

He heard Steve coming up the steps a few seconds before he walked into the bedroom, damp, a towel slung around his shoulders, the sight giving Danny a warm feeling in his stomach.

Grace wasn't the only one who was happy in Hawaii.

"How was your call?" Steve asked.

"Rachel is keeping Grace in New Jersey a little longer. With Stan."

Steve stopped halfway to the bed, his stoic 'I Own the World's Problems' face on full display, his lips thinned, eyes cautious, as if at any second Danny would blame him for Grace being so far away and be perfectly justified, at least in Steve's addled brain. "You're okay with that?"

"I'd rather have Grace here," Danny replied,  deliberately misunderstanding, "but she's safer there for now, so, yeah."

"Danny--"

"Come here," Danny said. "Seriously, come here and get that look off your face while you're at it."

Moving slowly, Steve dropped the towel and walked the rest of the way to the bed. Danny reached out a hand and pulled hard, landing Steve on the bed beside him. "Now," Danny said, hitching a leg over both of Steve's and putting an arm over Steve's stomach. "I'm not going to say this again--I shouldn't have to say it at all, but I recognize that you are extremely dense when it comes to these kinds of things, so I'm going to say it _once_ for the benefit of your stunted emotional growth. But only once. Is that clear?"

Steve blinked a few times before apparently realizing Danny was waiting for a response, then he nodded. "Good," Danny said. "I don't want Rachel. What I had with her is over. I want you. Now I know you speak several languages and English is one of them, so nod if you understood me."

Fighting a losing battle against a grin, Steve nodded. "Though if you wanted to say it in Spanish, that would be fine."

"Nope, sorry. I told you, only once. I won't say it again, so you'd better remember it."

"Committing it to memory right now," Steve said, pressing into Danny a little.

"Good." Danny frowned down at the rolled up jeans he was still wearing, wet now from Steve's trunks. "Now, as long as you're being so obedient, I think you need to get out of the wet trunks before you soak the bed. And I should get out of these jeans, because I look ridiculous."

Steve nodded solemnly, but the grin was still in his eyes. "You'd look pretty silly in just a t-shirt, especially if I'm naked."

"A good point. An excellent point." Danny pretended to think. "I guess that'll have to go as well."

"I suppose you have everything that happens after that all nicely planned?" Steve asked.

"Well, to a point. After that, we'll have to improvise."

"I'm very good at improvisation," Steve said.

Danny laughed. "So I've noticed. Let's put those skills to good use, then."

"I can't think of a better use than this," Steve said, leaning in for a kiss.

"Glad to see we're on the same page," Danny said, rolling onto his back and going to work on his clothes. He glanced at Steve, sitting up on the bed, watching Danny. "Hey, were you not listening? Clothes. Now. Because once Chin calls, I fully expect you to take me out for a very expensive dinner," Danny said, hoping the full meaning of his words got through Steve's thick skull. "One where everyone can see us. Got it?"

The smile that was growing on Steve's face told Danny that yeah, he got it. "Understood," Steve said gruffly.

"Good." Danny knew it wouldn't be the last time they'd have to have a conversation like this, because he'd worked with Steve McGarrett too long to think that something like this would sink in on the first go.

But he also knew it would work, and that made everything worth it.

\-----  
END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


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